The Long Way Home
by Jinzle
Summary: The war has ended but for some of the veterans of WW II the war continues. Peace is often an adjustment that is sometimes difficult For those who have experienced so much. Finding ones self and ones home can be a long and difficult process.
1. Rheinwiessenlager

**The Long Way Home**

_Disclaimer: I own nothing except this story and the OC characters it contains. This is a labor of love and not meant for profit._

_Caution: I am starting off giving this story a __**T**__ rating but it may change to an __**M**__ due to graphic non sexual imagery. I am attempting to stay as close to historical fact as possible and the truth is often unpleasant and disturbing. There will be bad language, deaths, violence and sexual situations. This is not for the timid. I will not be putting any warnings at the beginning of any chapters. This is your warning. At anytime if someone thinks I have crossed the line into a higher rating, please let me know. Please R & R._

_Summary: The war has ended but for some of the veterans of WWII, the war continues. Peace is an adjustment that is often difficult for those who have experienced so much. Finding ones self again, let alone one's home, can often be a difficult and painful process. This is a Langenscheidt centric story, focusing on him and is told mainly from his own POV. _

**Chapter 1: Rheinwiessenlager (1)**

June 1, 1945

It started to rain again. The drops were coming down hard, stinging his face and making it hard to see. Karl pulled his coat tighter around him in a futile effort to stay dry. The mud was seeping into his boots soaking his already damp socks. He instinctively looked around for some sort of cover. Having been through this numerous times before he knew there was no shelter to be found. The water had begun to run down the back of his neck, making him much more miserable. Closing his eyes he tipped back his head in an attempt to catch a few raindrops for his parched throat. The basic necessities, food, water, shelter and medicine, were lacking in this place. Even basic hygiene was lacking. The rain was their showers and open trenches their toilet. He knew if he slept any tonight, it would be in the open air, lying in the mud. This was a place for the damned and forgotten.

In his more rational times, he understood that the Allies had been overwhelmed with the amount of men surrendering in the last months of the war. They were over burdened and ill prepared to care for a defeated army. He realized many were just reacting to the horrors of Nazi brutality. Karl understood this but shivering in the cold rain he felt only anger and humiliation. Hadn't he helped the Allies? Where were Colonel Hogan and his promises?

His belly ached with hunger and he looked around for some grass to eat. It didn't have any nutritional value but it would help ease the pains of hunger. Instead he found an endless supply of mud. Looking out past the wire he tried to remember better times. Burying himself in his memories was the only way to leave this horrid place, even if it was only for a few minutes.

He remembered her, red hair, fierily temper and stubborn pride; her soft warm hands, kind heart and gentle eyes. He had every moment with her etched into his memory. That last day with her was heaven, the last day he was truly alive. Trembling with the emotions his memories invoked, he thought back to that day.

HHHHHH

April 6, 1945 (2)

Sitting on the steps of the infirmary, he could hear the windows rattle from the artillery fire in the distance. Just a few more hours and the camp would be liberated. Langenscheidt watched as _Obersts _Klink and Hogan lowered the Nazi flag and raised a white one. The air was thick with anticipation and smoke from the machines of war. All the guards were now unarmed. Some of the guards were smiling anticipating going home to their families, while others wept openly at the state of their beloved country. The POWs were yelling and slapping each other on the backs. There were a number of guards and prisoners standing by the gates waiting to see the first tank come up the road. Looking up at the guard towers, Langenscheidt saw they were empty. He thought they looked sad, like imaginary giants left forgotten and alone as children grew older and found other playmates. The _Obersts_ thought it too dangerous to man them with the armies so close.

He was amazed they all came through the winter. Food and medicine had been almost non existent. Even the POWs Red Cross packages had stopped. Somehow, the _Obersts_ were able to work together for the benefit of both sides. By working together they ensured that no one had more than the other. As a result of this cooperation, very few had died.

Turning to the lady sitting next to him whose hand he was clasping he smiled and gently brushed the hair from her face.

"Have you picked out a color yet?" he asked.

"Color for what?" she answered perplexed at the question.

"The color of the dress you will marry me in." he said playfully.

"I don't remember you asking me to marry you." she replied with a hint of laughter in her voice.

Laughing softly he said, "You don't? It was just five seconds ago."

Raising an eyebrow at him she cocked her head to the side and smiled. "That was your idea of popping the question?"

He leaned closer to her and said, "Since I did not hear a no you must have said yes."

Shaking her head she began to laugh. "If I didn't love you madly, I'd have to smack you. The answer you're looking for is sea green."

Karl smiled as he pulled her close and gently kissed her. "The Allies will be here soon and we will be separated. In my heart I will always be with you." he said as his fingers caressed her cheek.

Leaning forward and resting her head on his shoulder Versie gave a soft sigh. "Does Colonel Hogan know how long you and the others will have to stay in the POW camp?"

"_Nein Liebling, _the Geneva Convention says they have nine months after a cessation of hostilities for any imprisoned POWs to be returned to their homeland. So it could take up to a year before I see you again." Karl said, lifting her hand to his lips.

"I will find out where you are going and request a transfer to the closest available medical unit."

Karl smiled. 'That may not be possible. You may end up in London or back in America. I will write your parents so they can let you know where I am."

"In a way I want to be as far as possible from this place and at the same time, I don't want to leave. It's silly, I know." she said looking up at him and clutching at the cuff of his uniform with her free hand.

Putting his arm around her waist he said "I love you best when you are being silly." His heart beat wildly with anxiety as he thought about being separated for so long from her. A huge BOOM shook the building's foundations and Versie gave a startled cry as she moved closer to him. He knew the end was near. He tried to block out the uncertainty with the feeling of how wonderful she felt sitting there in his arms.

"Ok you two, time to break this up." Hogan's voice said over the roar of the approaching armies.

Pulling away from her was the hardest thing he had ever done. He wanted to hold her forever but knew their time together at Stalag 13 had come to an end.

"_Obersts_," Langenscheidt said, looking up to acknowledge Hogan and Klink's presence.

"It's time for everyone to be restricted to their barracks Langenscheidt, you too Lieutenant. It's getting too dangerous for anyone to be outside now." Hogan said as he and Klink turned and walked to the main gate to await the approaching army.

Karl stood up, pulling her up with him. Giving her a kiss on her cheek, he turned and walked towards his barracks. _I will be with her and Ilsa soon. I just need to have patience,_ he told himself. If only he had known then what was going to happen, he would have immediately grabbed Versie and ran away.

April 8, 1945

The trucks rumbled along the road, each crowded with eight guards from the camp and the four men who now guarded them. The air was still thick with the acidic smoke from the battle that ended two days ago, burning Karl's eyes and throat. Looking around at the men who sat with him he could see confusion, loss and uncertainty reflected in their eyes. _Men_, he thought to himself. _Some of these men were as young as ten and as old as eighty. _In the last days, Hitler demanded every male fourteen or older who as capable of carrying a weapon, join the Wehrmacht. Many of the Hitler Youths as young as ten were pressed into service.

When they crossed the Rhine, he could see the temporary camp the Allies had set up near Bad Kreuznach. As the trucks approached the camp he could smell the waste and despair of the 50,000 men being held there. The trucks pulled up to a set of buildings on the outside of the wire enclosure. Lined up by rank, they waited to be processed.

Karl entered the building and found the room full of desks and soldiers, each one processing a new German POW. He was shoved down into a chair that was facing a desk. Behind the desk sat a young American private who looked somewhere between eighteen and twenty to Karl.

"You speak English?" the private barked.

"Yes." Karl said smiling at the young man. The man did not smile back. In fact his scowl deepened. This caused Karl to be somewhat uneasy as he was used to the polite and friendly Americans back at Stalag 13.

"Good, then I don't have to try and do this using that damn gibberish you guys speak." The man growled as he pawed through some papers in front of him.

Karl shifted in his chair unsure of how to react to the hostility radiating from the private. Using one of his patented goofy smiles he often used to let new prisoners know he was not a threat to them, Karl attempted to put the private at ease. The private just looked at Karl as if he had just caught him in bed with his wife. Karl's smile slowly faded from his face. It was now he realized he was in trouble.

"Name," barked the private.

"Karl Anton Langenscheidt," he replied. The man looked at Karl like he had little patience for the Feldwebel. Karl quickly told him how to spell his name and the questioning continued.

"Rank?" the private asked even though it was obvious by Karl's uniform his rank.

"Sergeant," he supplied

"Serial number"

"A46597," Karl said as he fidgeted more in his seat. The private stopped writing and gave Karl a sharp hard look. Karl made more of an attempt to sit still.

The private flipped open a file and perused it before looking up at Karl. "It says here you were a guard at Stalag 13."

"Yes," replied Karl attempting to be as cooperative as he possibly could.

"It also says here that prior to being stationed at the POW camp you were with the 7th Flieger Division."

"Yes, I was in two battles in Greece but got hurt in the second one and sent to Camp 13." Karl said attempting to smile again.

"Are you some kind of retard or do you have some sort crush on me? You wanna fuck me or something?" growled the private.

"Pardon?" he asked confused.

"Stop fucking smiling at me you queer son of a bitch!" the private said in a loud voice causing heads to turn their way.

Karl lowered his head in humiliation. Looking at his hands, he did not attempt to meet the young private's eyes again. The questioning continued with Karl answering them all in a subdued manner. When it was done, the private announced he was a category four (3). Karl didn't understand what that meant but wasn't going to ask the American. He was then told to turn over any items of value "for safe keeping." The private told him would be given everything he needed while in camp and therefore would not need the duffle bag he had packed. It too would be stored.

The American made a motion with his hand and two MPs came over and pulled Karl from the chair. The MPs were informed that Karl was a 'four' and to sure they took the necessary precautions with him. As the private called for the next man to be interview, Karl was lead away.

As they exited the back door, Karl was taken to one of the enclosures marked 'NUMBER 4.' Karl attempted to back up when he realized the enclosure was full of SS. The gate opened and Karl was shoved inside and fell to the ground. Before he could get up the gate was shut and locked. The man stationed on the outside of the gate told Karl there was only one camp rule. 'No escape.' If he wanted to fight, kill, steal or do any other activity with the men in his enclosure that was fine but there would be no escape.

Karl turned and looked at the ocean of men in front of him. There were no structures of any kind inside the wire fence. Men sat huddled in an open field, with a central trench for their waste. They eyed Karl with a hungry glare, recognizing someone weaker than themselves. Unsure of what to do next, Karl just stood there.

A tall blonde man got up and walked over to Karl. He grabbed Karl by the neck and leaned down. "There are two kinds of people here. The ones on top, they get first choice on all food and supplies. Then there are the ones on bottom who get the leftovers. Looking at you, I think you are a bottom feeder." This produced laughter from the nearby men. The man began punching Karl until he fell to the ground. Then the man began kicking him until Karl had no choice but to curl himself into a fetal position.

After a few minutes, the man had grown tired of the game and giving Karl a final kick, he said, "Yes just another bottom feeder." With that the man returned to his position by the gate, accompanied by the laughter of his friends.

Karl slowly uncurled himself and got to his feet. Not looking at the men, he staggered pass and prayed that Hogan would hurry and get him released as he had promised.

The Present

The rain had stopped and it was growing dark. He had not had anything to eat in three days and it looked like he wasn't going to eat again today. Karl began shuffled through the sea of bodies looking for a place to lie down. Finding a small place that was more of a mud puddle that a place to sleep, he lay down and hoped no one could see his tears.

_(1) Rhine Meadow Camps had over 557,000 POWs interred from April – July 1945. Of the 19 Prisoner of War Temporary Enclosures (PTWE) Bretzenhiem, Sinzi,, Rheinberg, Heidesheim, Wickrathberg, and Buderich were the six camps with the highest mortality rate. In these camps approximately 5,000 of the 500,000 inmates died. Of the total one million prisoners held in all the camps, it is estimated that between 6,000 to 10,000 prisoners died due to salvation, dehydration and exposure. The prisoners upon entering these camps had to surrender their belongings and were forced to dig holes in the ground by hand so they could have somewhere to sleep. All the camps were over crowed. Some had as much as twice the amount of prisoners the camp was designed to handle. By the end of June the camps began closing. With the exception of Bretzenheim, which did not close until 1948, the last camps were closed in September 1945. _

_The POWs were reclassified as Disarmed Enemy Forces to get around having to uphold the Geneva Convention. Until fall of 1945, the Red Cross was denied access to the camps, by this time most of the camps had already closed. Supplies from the Red Cross and the German population were also denied. The German civilians were not allowed to give the prisoners food. If caught they were subject to being shot. It wasn't until February 4, 1946, when the Red Cross was finally allowed to start to send limited amounts of food and supplies. _

_(2) The day the real Stalag 13 was liberated by the Allies._

_(3) German POWs were classified according to the threat level they represented. Category Ones were considered tame cooperative prisoners with little or no Nazi leanings. In theory, they would be released first. Categories two and three were considered average prisoners with moderate ties to the Nazi party. The Allies considered the SS and paratroopers to be hard core Nazis and treated them accordingly. _


	2. Ralf & Johannes

**Chapter 2: Ralf & Johannes**

_Author Notes: I am sorry that I upset so many people by this story. I am trying to depict conditions and situations as honestly as I can. If you think it would be better for me to tone it down some, please let me know. It is not my intent to cause anyone discomfort or to tell this tell for the purpose of shocking and tantalizing my audience. Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to give me feedback on this story. You ideas and comments are greatly appreciated._

June 18, 1945

Karl sat on the hard ground. The rainy season had passed and summer was in full force. The sun beat down on the men contained in the wire cage. When there was a breeze, instead of having a cooling effect, the wind just stirred up the dust making it more miserable for the prisoners. Karl sat near the back gate. The hard core SS sat near the front gate to be first in line for food and to harass any new arrivals. While the back gate was marginally safer for Karl, it also meant he would be one of the last to be feed. Sometimes there wouldn't be enough food for everyone and he would go to sleep hungry.

Karl did concede that there had been some improvements to the cage. There now were some tents for the prisoners and their rations had gone from 700 calories a day to 1200. Still the Stalag felt like a paradise compared to this place. Squinting up at the sun he wondered if Versie was thinking of him. He missed her and longed for some word from her. So far they had not been allowed to write letters or receive mail.

Rolling up his coat into a pillow, he laid down. He watched as the back gate was opened and the guards came in to retrieve those who were sick or had died during the night. The guards said there was now medicine and medical care available for the prisoners but for some it was too little, too late.

With the sun's heat beating down on him without respite, his head had begun to hurt. He closed his eyes and tried not to think of how ill he felt. Karl had given up hoping for the Oberst would come for him. For whatever reason, Hogan was unable to fulfill his promise. All he could do now what to keep to himself and pray the Americans would see he was no threat to them and release him.

Something brushed against him. A body half fell on him and remained motionless. He opened his eyes and turned over to see who was now at his side. There he saw lying in the dirt was a young boy with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. Karl thought it was pushing it a bit to say the boy was fifteen or sixteen. Sitting up, he took a closer look. The boy's face was dirty and covered in bruises. He was thin as paper. His hands were swollen, bruised and scraped. The blood on his torn trousers completed the story. The boy had put up a fight but someone bigger and stronger had come out as the victor.

"Who are you?" Karl asked after noticing the boy was trembling. His eyes told Karl that his interest was frightening the boy. Karl could see the boy thought the accidental contact was with him going to earn him similar treatment. Karl smiled at him, trying to put the boy at ease. "I will not hurt you. I just wanted to know your name."

The young man tried to push himself into a sitting position but could only manage it with Karl's help.

"Fahrer Ralf Klein," the boy said trying to puff himself up so he would appear larger. Karl smiled at the young man false bravado.

"And how old are you Ralf Klein?" Karl said while attempting to hide his amusement.

"I am eighteen." Ralf replied.

"Lair!" Karl said while laughing. This was the first time he had laughed since leaving camp. It felt good to laugh. Karl suddenly realized how much he missed the small things. "I'll kiss Patton on the lips before I'll believe you're eighteen. How old are you really?"

"Sixteen?" was the more subdued answer.

"If you're going to play games with me I'm going back to my nap." Karl said as he started to turn away from the boy.

Ralf grabbed his arm, lean forward and whispered, "I'll be fourteen next month. That's the truth, I swear."

Turning back to Ralf, Karl smiled. "See it's not so hard to tell the truth, is it? I am Karl Langenscheidt." Holding out his hand to the young man, Karl said, "How do you do?" Ralf smiled and grasped Karl's hand. "I am well Feldwebel."

Shaking his head Karl said, "Not Feldwebel, just Karl." The German military doesn't exist anymore Ralf."

Nodding and looking around him Ralf asked, "Do you mind if I stick with you?"

"Sure, I could use the company." replied Karl.

Ralf looked relieved and gave Karl a tentative smile.

"You look a little young to be in the Schutzstaffel-Waffen. You don't seem to be of the temperament either." remarked Karl.

My father and two brothers were in the Schutzstaffel-Waffen before they were killed on the Eastern Front. I thought they'd want me to join too so when they came around looking for any recruits, I enlisted." Ralf said. "Besides, there was no food or work. My mother did not want me to go but I had no choice. Now that I am the man of the house, I need to provide for my mother and sisters." Ralf looked at Karl rather sheepishly and said, "Unfortunately I was only in for five days before I became a POW."

"Do not worry Ralf, I will make sure you return to your mother." Karl said as he stretched out his legs to lie back down. As he lay there, he thought to himself that this was the first time since being here that he actually felt good. Now he had a purpose and that purpose would give him the strength to make it through this hell hole.

Later sitting there eating their meager dinner, Karl thought about how good it felt to sit there, eat and talk with someone. He felt almost human. Ralf told him all about himself and his home in Gelenkirchen. Karl was just happy to hear the boy chatter. It was like a cool balm on Karl's soul. Even though the soup was thin, the bread hard and dry, it helped to filled his belly. In return, Karl told Ralf about being a guard at Stalag 13 and some of the funnier, unclassified, things that happened there.

Karl noticed muttering behind him and listened as it became louder. He turned to see what was happening. A man stood up and began yelling at the guards outside the fence. He threw his bowl at them with it bouncing harmlessly off the fence. The guards on the other side of the wire laughed. He then began to curse at them, casting significant doubt on the legality of their parent's marriage and questioned if there was any forks in their family tree. Karl leaned over and asked the man nearest to him what was going on.

"The Americans," the man said. "They have are giving us to the French for slave labor."

"For how long?" asked Karl.

"Until we are fertilizer." replied the man turning back to finish his meal.

"That can't be right." Karl said mostly to himself. Confused about the new information, he decided to wait and see. It was possible the information was incorrect. He smiled to reassure Ralf who was wearing a worried look. "Don't worry Ralf everything will be alright."

"Famous last words Karl." the boy responded giving Karl a dubious look.

"Trust me." Karl said as he finished his soup.

"You I trust," Ralf responded with a pointed look at the amused guards outside the wire.

As the day wore on, the rumors became more pronounced. Many of the prisoners wept openly, afraid they would never see their families again. Karl became increasing worried and often counseled Ralf if they were moved, to stay close to him and not get separated. Both prisoners and guards seem to be on edge. Almost if everyone was holding their breath, hoping the boogieman will pass them by.

On the second day Karl and Ralf were surprised when a shadow fell across them. Looking up Karl squinted into the sun to see who was standing over him. He was instinctively on guard as he was in the more vulnerable position. Instead of the blows, as Karl expected, the man flopped down next to him. Karl surveyed the new arrival warily. The man appeared to be in his mid fifties, salt and pepper hair with steel grey eyes. He wore a Luftwaffe uniform with the rank of an Offizer-Stellvertrer (1) and a gorget which signified him as being with the Figendarmerie (2). There was a newly healing scar that ran down the left side of his face. Karl eyed the man nervously and waited for him to speak.

The man smiled at Karl and Ralf but it was a smile that made both of them uneasy. They knew this was not a man to be trifled with. "I am Johannes Schuster." the man said without any preamble. "I have been watching you, Fallschirmjager (3)."

"You have?" Karl said shifting slightly to place himself between Schuster and Ralf.

"Relax," Schuster said, waving away Karl's protectiveness of Ralf. "I have come to join you, not to make trouble."

"Why?" Karl asked with suspicion.

"I watched you take the child in." he replied.

From behind Karl came Ralf's indignant reply, "I am not a child."

The man indulged in a small laugh. "My youngest is older than you." He said leaning slightly sideways to look at Ralf. Looking back at Karl he continued. "As I said, I saw you take the child in and I knew you were someone to be trusted. You can watch my back and I'll watch yours."

"I do not believe you are a nice man and I do not trust you." Karl responded.

"No, I am not a 'nice man'. I have had to carry out orders that to this day have me waking up screaming in the night. What I am is an honorable man. If I give you my word, I will not go back on it. You watch out for me and I will watch out for you. None of us will survive long staying isolated. You don't understand what is going on outside the wire. There are events unfolding which will have a direct impact on all of us. The impact will not be pleasant." Schuster said looking Karl in the eye.

"The Oberst is coming to get me out of here and when he does, he will get Ralf out too." Karl said defiantly.

"He's not coming." Schuster quietly responded.

Karl became angry. In his heart he knew Hogan wasn't coming but to hear it from his man's lips was almost more than he could bear. "Unlike some, the Oberst is a good and honorable man. If he says he will come for me, then he will."

Schuster raised his hands in front of him with his palms towards Karl, "I did not mean to imply your Oberst was lying but here are the facts my friend. The Allies have more POWs than they can handle. Their record keeping has been substandard at best. I am sure he wants keep his word but the fact is you are most likely lost in the system and he is unable to find you. With over a million POWs, what is the likelihood of him just stumbling across you? No, you will not be able to depend on him. Now you need to decide if you want to live or die. If you want to live, you had better start making alliances now." Karl hesitated and Schuster continued, "Do it for the boy. You are the only thing standing between him and the predators."

Karl looked back at Ralf. He wanted to have faith in Hogan but he needed to consider Ralf's welfare. Turning back to Schuster, Karl nodded and extended his hand. "I am Karl Langenscheidt and this is Ralf Klien."

Taking his hand Schuster smiled. "Thank you Karl, Ralf. I will make sure you don't regret this decision. You can call me Johannes."

Karl felt uneasy but push his doubts from his mind. Moving slightly away from Ralf, Karl asked, "What is going on outside the wire?"

"All of Europe is starving. The only one with extra food is America and their Joint Chief of Staff has said Germany will not receive any aid until the war with Japan is over. Starvation is griping the civilian population. Add the displaced people fleeing from Soviet occupied areas and life outside the wire is as bleak as it is inside." Johannes said in a quiet tone.

"How do you know all of this?" Karl asked.

Johannes gave Karl a tight smile. "See this scar?" he said pointing at the left side of his face. "I got this at the CSDIC at Bad Nenndorf (3). Let's just say I was in a position the 'know' things before we surrendered. One could say that in theory I could still have contacts on the outside."

Karl looked at Ralf who seem both fascinated and appalled at what he was hearing. Looking back to Johannes, Karl said, "None of your activities before or after coming to this place better not fall on Ralf or you will have to deal with me. I am not as weak and as stupid as you may have told yourself."

"Only a fool would align themselves with someone weak or stupid. That is a good way to die. Your concerns are noted Karl. I will consider myself formally warned."

Relaxing, Karl asked Johannes about his family.

"Well I have been married for 35 years to the most wonderful woman. Her name is Rosemarie. We had six children. The oldest, Werner, was killed during Operation Barbossa and we lost Hans in Africa. My youngest is twenty and engaged to marry a Kriegsmarine OberLeutnant zur See. Last year my oldest daughter, Avis, made me a grandfather. And you Karl?"

Still hesitant about Johannes, Karl hedged his reply. "I am engaged to marry a nurse I met while I was stationed near Hammelburg. The war has taken all my family from me. I am the only one left."

Johannes nodded in sympathy. "We have all suffered during this war and I have a feeling that God has decided we haven't suffered enough."

_Warrant Officer _

_Field police or MP. They were instrumental in executions and imprisonment of civilians and committed numerous war crimes. Their primary job was to find deserters and execute them. For maligners and other infractions they could have the solider sent to the Strafbattalion (or Penal Battalion). In the last days of the war many soldiers and new recruits were sent to Strafbattalions for the most minor infractions. These battalions were usually given suicide missions and hazardous work such as clearing mine fields. _

_Paratrooper_

_Bad Nenndorf's Combined Services Detailed Interrogation Center or CSDIC #74, was a British interrogation center based at the Schlammbad Complex. It was opened in June of 1945, to handle former Nazi's for interrogation but later included suspected Soviet Spies. It is famous for allegations of abuse of the prisoners there. Claims included insufficient clothing; intimidation by the guards; mental and physical torture; kept in solitary confinement for long periods without exercise; confinement to punishment cells for no other reason that the interrogator was unhappy with their responses; while in those cells during the winter, prisoners were denied certain clothing and had buckets of water thrown on them, were forced to scrub it's floors for long periods of time and manhandled; medical attention was grossly inadequate; insufficient food; delayed discharge without reason; personal property of the prisoners were stolen . Charges were brought against four officers but all except the camp's doctor were cleared. He was charged with one count of neglect and received a dishonorable discharge. Due to the allegations, the center was closed in July 1947._

_**Please don't forget to review.**_


	3. Prey

**Chapter 3: Prey**

She sat next to him on the blanket. Looking around he saw they were in a meadow surrounded by pretty yellow flowers. A picnic lunch was laid out on the blanket before them. He couldn't remember the last time he has seen so much food. Looking at her, he was memorized by the sun shimmering in her hair. Usually she wore her hair up so it wouldn't interfere with her work. Today she had worn it down. It flowed in waves like red silk across her shoulders, ending just above her small breasts. She smiled at him and the air rushed from his lungs making him light headed. Leaning into him her lips brushed

his. She deepened her kiss. He felt as if he was drowning in his desire for her. Letting go of her hand he put his arms around her and pulled her down to lie next to him on the blanket. He could not believe how warm and soft she was. He held her close, kissing her, touching her; just being with her was exquisite. A thought crossed his mind that if he should die at this moment, he would die a happy man.

"Ready to go, baby?" an amused man's voice asked.

Smiling she pulled away and stood up. Confused he sat up and saw his beloved in the arms of Robert Hogan.

"What is this?" he asked horrified and confused.

She looked down at him and gave him a pitying look. "You took too long in getting back to me. You really didn't expect for me to wait forever for you."

"I don't understand." he stammered. A sense of betrayal hit him like the force of a convoy of Kubelwagens (1).

"Don't you?" Hogan smirked. "You know I always get the girl."

He watched, unable to move, as Hogan kissed her. Not a platonic kiss but a deep searing kiss that ripped and tore at his soul until it was nothing but tatters.

The scene changed before his eyes and now he stood inside the wire cage. They stood on the outside still locked in their passionate embrace. He screamed her name as the tears flowed down his face. He clutched the barbed wire as it dug into his palms and blood flowed down his wrists wanting it to disappear so he could get to her. Finally Hogan turned and looked at him, "You're not ever going to leave."

Hogan pointed at something inside the cage. He turned to see what Hogan was pointing at and found it was an open grave with his name on the headstone.

"Just because you are dead doesn't mean we have to stop living too." Taking her hand, Hogan walked with her away from the enclosure. He tried to call her back but she just faded way into the distance.

Karl woke with a gasp. Sitting up he could feel his heart hammering inside his chest. He wiped the sweat from his eyes and attempted to get his bearings. _It was just a dream_, Karl told himself as he struggled to get his breathing under control. He reached into his pocket and gently removed a piece of cloth. Reverently he held the soiled cloth square in his hands. His finger gently stroked his initials that she had so lovingly sewn in the cloth. Bringing it to his lips he softy kissed her handiwork. Carefully folding it, he placed in back into his pocket.

As his pulse and breathing slowly returned to normal, he detected the sound of someone crying. In the cage, it was not unusual during the night to hear people crying or even screaming. Sometimes it was from bad memories. Other times it was because of those who prowled the night. He realized the weeping was coming from somewhere nearby. Turning he saw Ralf crying in his sleep, kicking his legs and in the throes of his own nightmare.

Karl moved closer to Ralf, put his hand on his shoulder and gently shook the boy. Ralf opened his eyes and took a swing at Karl. Moving back, Karl was able to dodge getting punched in the face as the blow landed on his shoulder. Awaking fully, Ralf realized he had just struck his friend. Sitting up, he began to profusely apologize to Karl.

"No need to apologize Ralf, I know you didn't mean it." Karl said patting the boy's shoulder. "You were still dreaming."

Though he was pretty sure he knew what Ralf had been dreaming about, he was waiting for the boy to tell him. He wasn't going to breech Ralf's privacy. Until the boy wanted to tell him, Karl would keep silent.

"Try and go back to sleep, Ralf. I am right here. Whoever was bothering you in your dream cannot touch you here. I won't let them." Karl said trying to reassure the boy.

Ralf gave him a half hearted smile and laid back down. A couple of times Karl caught Ralf looking his way as if to confirm he hadn't gone anywhere. Finally, Ralf fell back asleep. It was only then Karl lay back down. Lying on his side, Karl rubbed his shoulder and thought to himself that Ralf had a nasty right hook. When the sun began to peek over the horizon, Karl was finally able to close his eyes and sleep.

The day had progressed much like the day before and the one before that. Sitting there eating the evening meal of a small piece of horse meat, a piece of bread and a small wedge of cheese. The three men sat and talked about their good luck and hoped the rest of their meals would bed so plentiful. Karl felt relaxed sitting there talking and laughing with his friends. Their dinner was interrupted by a loud obnoxious voice directly behind Ralf.

"So this is where you scurried off to little rat boy. Ran and hid under some ladies' skirts, I see." The toe of the man's jackboot made a solid connection with the small of Ralf's back. Ralf cried out and fell to his side in pain as the man drew back his foot for another strike.

Karl jumped to his feet and ordered the man to stop. The man looked up from Ralf's prone position to meet Karl's eyes. Karl took a sharp intake of breath. The man was the same man who had beaten him at the front gate when he first had arrived. He obviously recognized Karl. Giving him a dismissive sneer, the man said, "Leave be bottom feeder or we'll give you some of what this little turd is going to get."

Karl looked around for Johannes, who had been sitting next to him just a moment ago. Not seeing him anywhere, Karl realized that he was going to be the only thing standing between these men and Ralf. Karl counted three men and their leader. There was no way he would be successful at taking on all four of them but what choice did he have. He could not let them hurt Ralf again.

The man took note of Karl's predicament and smiled a sickening sweet smile. "Fade back into the crowd bottom feeder. Today is not your day. Maybe when we get bored with playing with this one, we'll come and play with you."

Karl's mind raced with what to do. _Maybe,_ he thought, _if I distract them enough Ralf will have the opportunity to disappear into the crowd. _Karl did not hold out much hope for lasting a long time against these four men but Ralf wouldn't need a long time. He looked about him at the faces of the men near him. They had been watching intently but when Karl looked at them, they turned away pretending not to notice what was happening nearby.

Summoning up all of his courage, Karl launched himself at the man. Before he could land the first blow, the man punched him hard in the gut. All the air rushed out of Karl's lungs and he was having difficultly catching his breath. The man rained blows down on Karl. His fists were like sledge hammers. Karl fell to one knee and attempted to get up again. _Just one blow_, he thought to himself. _Let me get in just one blow before I go down. _Karl had just gotten to his feet when the man gave a strangled cry and Karl found himself covered in the man's blood. Karl watched as the man grabbed at the gapping crevice that had opened in his throat. Karl watched in horror as the man made a few gurgling sounds before falling to the ground dead.

Karl stood there memorized by the dead man at his feet. Unsure of what had happened Karl looked up expecting immediate retribution from the man comrades. Instead the only face he saw was that of Johannes. In his hand was a blood gravity knife. _Now how did he get that past the guards _was the first thought that entered Karl's head.

Seeing Karl's confusion Johannes said, "You take out the leader and the troops will fall into disarray. You really haven't seen that much combat, have you?" Johannes bent down and wiped his blade on the dead man's shirt and then casually retracing the blade, he put it back into his pocket. Looking at the dead man's id disk Johannes read Hauptsturmfuhrer Karsten Diefenbach (2)" He dropped the tag without comment and stood, looking at Karl.

"I can't thank you enough for the distraction Karl." Johannes said as he walked over and helped Ralf to his feet. "I would have never been able to circle around and get behind him without your help."

Ralf turned and looked at the man's slit throat and promptly lost his dinner. Chuckling softly and shaking his head Johannes said, "What am I going to do with you two. Both are just babes in the woods."

Karl, too shocked to say anything, went to find some water in which to wash his uniform. When he returned he saw the guards had removed Diefenbach. Johannes was sitting next to Ralf who had his head between his knees. His hand was patting the boy's back while he spoke reassuring words to him.

Karl sat down on the other side of Ralf, removed his shirt and began trying to get the blood stains out using the little bit of water he had and some sand. While he worked he listened to Johannes talk with Ralf.

"It's ok Ralf. Those men aren't coming back."

Ralf lifted his head and Karl saw his red rimmed eyes and dried tears. Karl pretended to be so engrossed in cleaning his shirt that he didn't notice Ralf's tears. "Why am I such a freak?" Ralf asked Johannes.

"Who said you are a freak?" Johannes quietly asked the upset Ralf.

"I must be a freak. Why else would they be interested in me that way? They have to see something wrong inside me to want to do those things with me." Ralf whispered.

Johannes gave Ralf a sad half smile. "You're confusing sex with power Ralf. If you were a homosexual and were willing to do those things with them, they would have no interest in you. Their interest lay in the fact they knew you had no leanings that way. For them, sex was a way of domineering and humiliating you. They got a rush from your pain and fear. They were the sick ones Ralf, not you. If this was another time, they would be shot or send to a concentration camp."

"He is telling you the truth Ralf. Those men did not care about your sexual orientation. They saw you as someone weaker and therefore easy game." Karl said not looking up from his shirt. "Their pleasure came not from your body but what they were doing to your mind and soul. He is dead now and we will not let anyone hurt you that way again. I give you my solemn oath."

"Why don't you try and get some rest." Johannes said.

Ralf nodded and wiped the tears from his face with the back of his shirt sleeve. He curled up near Karl and Karl set down his shirt and placed his uniform jacket over Ralf.

Placing his hand on Ralf's head Karl stroked his hair and promised things would look better in the morning. Soon Ralf had fallen into a fitful sleep. Both men sat up keeping watch over Ralf until the sun came up again.

The sun had barely peeked over the tree tops when the back gates were open and Karl, Ralf, Johannes and about a thousand other prisoners were marched out of the compound and put into waiting trucks.

"Where are we going?" Karl asked one guard.

"Dunno," answered the American corporal. "We were told to have you guys at the train depot by noon. That's all I know."

The three of them looked at each other. "Do you think they are sending us home?" asked a hopeful Ralf.

"No," answered Karl. "I've got a sinking feeling that it will be a long time before we see home."

Karl listened as the truck started up and with a sudden jerk; it started moving away from the compound. As the compound grew smaller in the distance Karl's apprehension grew. As long as he remained in the same place, there was hope of being found. Now he sat in the back of the truck and watched as his hope dwindled and died out. Tears burned the back of his eyes and he closed them tightly to keep them from leaking out.

The trucks stopped at the depot in town and they were off loaded in a hurried fashion. The men were loaded thirty at a time into boxcars used for cattle. As they pulled out of the station everyone was asking each other where they were going.

"Looks like we are headed west," said Karl. "I think we are headed for France. The rumors must be true. We are going to be slave labor. The Americans have sold us into bondage."

Karl pulled his knees up to his chest, laying his arms on his knees and his head on his arms. There were no words for his sense of loss and betrayal. He had the distinct feeling he would never see his homeland again. He felt dead inside. There was no anger, hate or rage, just a hollow emptiness deep in his chest. He thought about the meal they had last night, _the last meal before the execution, how appropriate. _

The train didn't stop any during the trip so by the time they got to Avignon they were very hungry and thirsty. They were able to urinate between the stats in the boards, often getting more on themselves than out side of the box car. When the train did finally stop, they were loaded onto trucks, with each group of trucks headed into different directions.

They drove into the night without stopping for food and only one bathroom break.

Finally they arrived at their destination. They were taken out of the trucks and put into three rows, with ten men in each row. A German gefreiter stood in front of them and interpreted what the ranking French solider said.

"I am Marcechal des logis (3) Gregoire Morneau. Welcome to Antibes France (4). You are here to clear the landmines on the beach. There is a total of 25 miles of beaches that have to be cleared. You will not leave here until each beach is clear. If you want to eat, you will work. If you don't work, you will not eat. It is that simple. Anyone attempting escape will be executed. You are not POWs therefore you do not have the protection of the Geneva Convention. You would be wise to remember that. You will be marched to your living quarters without incident. Since you have not worked today, you will receive no rations today. Are there any questions?"

No one responded as they were too stunned to form any words. They were then marched through the city streets. There they were met with the population's anger. Things were thrown at the soldiers, curses hurled but no one was injured. They marched out of town and to a military compound. There they saw inside the compound was another compound surrounded by barbed wire. In it was a large tent. There were two smaller tents near the larger one. There was one gate, which was heavily guarded. As each man passed into the inner compound, each was handed a black triangle to be sewn on his uniform. They were told this designated them as high risk prisoners. They were given one sewing kit and told they would have to have the triangle sewn on the right arm of their uniform by morning or they would not be feed. The large tent was for sleeping. The smaller tents were a shower and latrine, the second one was the mess hall. The group was dismissed to the dorm tent and each man found a cot to sleep in.

"At least we have a bed and a roof over our heads." said Johannes trying to sound cheerful. "Better than what we had before."

Karl didn't answer. The finality of his situation had taken his spirit and his voice. Clearing landmines, his body shook with dread. He tried to imagine his future but only saw the blackness of the grave.

_Author's Notes:_

_1 Kubelwagens: In WW II it was an all purpose vehicle. The German equivalent of the American jeep._

_2 Hauptsturmfuhrer is the SS equivalent of a Captain._

_4 Marcechal des logis: Marshal of Lodgings is a rank in the French Cavalry equal to an American staff sergeant or a Commonwealth corporal._

_5 Antibes is on the French Rivera near Nice._


	4. Antibes

**Antibes**

_A special thanks to Speedar and Terry Doyle for their technical assistance with this chapter._

The three friends surveyed the inside of the tent. There were ten bunks, three bunks high. They noted a bunk had already been claimed, most likely by the German interrupter. Karl and Ralf took the bunk by the short wall with Ralf occupying the top bunk and Karl the lower one. Johannes took the bottom bunk. This way there could be only one approach to the bunks but it also meant if there was an incident, they would be trapped. Unlike Stalag 13, there was no common table. With the exception of a large bucket for night urination and shelves which looked like a small bookcases by each set of bunks, there were no other furnishings. With no windows, the only ventilation was an open door flap. Because there was no light, the inside of the tent was dark and dreary. There was no stove in the tent for heating or cooking.

After each prisoner claimed a bunk, a call went out for all prisoners to immediately assemble outside. After the last prisoner arrived, a French Commandant and his pet interrupter stood before the assembled group. Through the interrupter, the following announcement was made.

"I am the commanding officer, Commandant (1) Rene Lambourne. Welcome to Interment Camp 38. This group is assigned the task of clearing twenty-five miles of mined beaches. You will be awaked at 0500 hours. You will dress, shave and fall out for inspection by 0530 hours. At 0545 hours you will have breakfast and at 0600 hours you will assemble to be transported to your work site. Your work day will end at 1800 hours, when you will be transported back to the compound for your dinner and showers. You will not be required to work on Sunday and wash tubs will be given to you on that day for the purpose of washing your clothes. All personnel will be confined to the dormitory between the hours of 2000 hours to 0530 hours. Any complaints or concerns will be made to Brigadier (2) Perrigo." Lambourne gestured to the man standing to his left. "He will be in charge of your compound. You will do what he tells you without question."

"Insubordination and other offenses will be severely punished. Anyone attempting escape with be shot on sight and the rest of you will be punished. When you are outside of this compound, you will speak only when spoken to, that includes each other. You will maintain a clean and neat appearance at all times. This includes your bunks and all areas inside this compound. You will now line up in an orderly fashion at the mess tent to pick up your bedding and personal supplies. Are there any questions?"

A hand went up belonging to a man who looked to be in his forties. "Are you telling me, a Sturmbannfuhrer (3), I am required to answer to enlisted personnel?" he asked angrily.

The Commandant fixed his cool gaze onto the SS officer. "There is no German army or a German government. You have no rank and therefore you have no privileges such a rank would entitle you to. Any other questions?"

Johannes raised his hand, "Herr Commandant, I do not see any mine clearing equipment when we came in. Could you tell us what tools are available to us for clearing the mine fields, who has laid the mines and are they anti-personnel or anti-tank mines?"

"You will be given the equipment you need when you arrive at your work site. They are German anti personnel mines." The Commandant replied through his interrupter. "Do you have any experience clearing mines?"

"My experience is extremely limited." replied Johannes.

"Good then you can teach the others today and they will be ready to go to work in the morning. I appoint you as their spokesman and leader. That is all. Dismissed."

Grumbling to themselves the men lined up at the mess tent.

As Karl waited in line, he tapped Johannes on the shoulder. "How bad is it?"

"I won't really know until we get out there but I have a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. I didn't see any mine fails or mine rollers when we came in. Hopefully we will at least have some metal detectors to work with." Johannes said with a grimace.

"What is a mine fail or mine roller?" Ralf asked from behind Karl.

"A fail is an attachment to an armored vehicle such as a tank. It has two arms attached to a rotor. Attached to the rotating rotors are chains which have fist size balls at the end. They pound the ground and detonate the mines. It is used for anti-personnel mines. The roller is also attached to an armored vehicle. It has two arms attached to it with heavy rollers placed in front of the tank's tracks. The rollers literally roll over the mine to detonate it. Theses are usually used for anti-tank mines."

"How dangerous is it?" asked a worried Karl.

"Dangerous with the right equipment, can be suicide without it." replied a grim Johannes. "The anti-personnel mines have a hair trigger. They are nasty things to work with."

Karl and Ralf looked at Johannes with worry and fear.

Shrugging his shoulders, Johannes continued, "Then you have the problem with where they are and who made them."

"Why is that?" asked Ralf.

"If ground water seeps inside, the internal mechanisms can corrode and degrade making the mine more dangerous. If there is corrosion, then the slightest thing can set them off or they can just detonate on their own. If it was American or British mine it would have non corrosive parts and therefore safer. Since it was made by us.…..well what do the Americans say? Oh yes, we are up the creek without a paddle."

"This is what they want us to do?" asked an appalled Karl.

"What choice do any of us have?" replied Johannes with a look of resignation. "One more thing, stay away from the interrupter."

Both Karl and Ralf looked at Johannes with a confused look on their face.

"Look that private is a dead man and there isn't anything either of us can do about it. I watched the others while the Commandant gave his little speech. The hardcore SS in this group see him as a collaborator and will dispatch him as soon as they have the chance. You guys could easily get caught up in that if you try to befriend him. Don't look at me that way Karl. I don't make the rules and I can't fight every man here for some poor sucker is too dumb to have any sense of self preservation."

Karl looked over at the young private who was slated to die for such a minor infraction of the 'Code'. A shiver ran down his spine as he wondered what would be his fate be if they knew some of the things he had done during the war. Would Johannes leave him to his fate as coldly as the private was being left to his?

When they finally got inside the mess tent, they were outfitted with a sheet and blanket, two pairs of underwear, two pairs of socks, two pairs of work uniforms with the black triangle already sewn on the sleeve, a mess kit, and a pillow. Taking them back to the tent dormitory, they each made their beds and stowed their gear. Exiting the tent, they found a shade tree to sit under. Soon others in the group began to gather around them. When everyone was present, Johannes began to speak.

"My knowledge of demining landmines is limited to what I have witnessed others doing. I have never done it myself. Is there anybody here with any experience with mines?" The group stared back at him in silence. "Alright then, I don't think we are going to have the proper equipment. Hopefully we will at least have some metal detectors but we can't count on that. So you are going to have to know the manual procedure to locate and detonate landmines. First you get down as low as you can and with a knife or some other piece of metal; you very gently probe the ground at an angle until you locate a metal object. It is important to do this at an angle as not to depress the pressure plate. You mark its location and very carefully with your hands or a spade you begin to remove the ground covering the mine. Once uncovered, you will see a small hole near the pressure plate. This is where the safety pin had been. You can carefully insert a sewing pin which will keep it from detonating. The problem is we would sometime booby trapped them to keep this from happening. You can also deactivate them by carefully unscrewing the sensor and removing the wires from the plunger. If we are lucky, we will have charges to detonate them from a safe distance."

Johannes listened to the grumbling from the assembled men before continuing. "The mines are probably SMi-35 or 44s (4). They do not detonate in the ground but launch the explosive into the air about waist high. They will then explode with ball bearings and other shrapnel. That means that they will rip through anything they meet leaving a person looking like a plate of ground meat. The kill radius for them is 20 meters with casualties up to 140 meters. (5) If you accidently detonate one, don't stand there or try to run. Drop face forward onto the ground. You will be hurt but it maybe the difference between life and death."

One of the men in the back spoke up, "We are suppose to clear twenty-five miles of these things? It's suicide." The other men in the group agreed whole heartily with the assessment.

"And what would be our other option?" asked Johannes.

"We could escape." came a reply.

"Where to? Who would assist us? I think we need to be realistic. The Alps are to the north and east of us. Do you plan to walk across the Alps or around them? There are only two ways we are leaving here, either in a box or after the beaches are cleared."

A thick silence fell on the group. No one looked at anyone else. Each lost in his own thoughts.

Finally Ralf chimed in, "Well I don't know about anyone else but I'm looking forward to a decent shower. I think I'm starting to kill the flies that land on me."

Laughter rang out at his quip and a solider reached out and tousled the young man's hair good naturedly.

"I think Ralf has the right idea, at least for now. Lets all wash and sleep in a real, if not lumpy, bed tonight." Johannes winked at Ralf in a silent thank you for relieving a tense situation. Ralf's smile lit up his face as he scrambled to be the first one to the showers.

Morning came early to the men at IC 38. While everyone was hungry, it felt good to be clean and shaven. Sleeping in a bed was heaven for the men and their outlook was better than it had been the day before. They were searched before loading themselves into the truck. Johannes, Ralf and Karl sat together in silence as the trucks rolled out of the compound. Fifteen minutes later they had reached their destination.

Karl hopped out of the truck and looked at the beach with awe. He had seen pictures of the ocean before but had never seen it with his own eyes. He stared transfixed at the beautiful blue ocean. The whiteness of the beach hurt his eyes but he didn't care. Looking into the distance he saw where the ocean and the sky meet and blended seamlessly together. He looked at the small white clouds that dotted the sky and wondered if he had seen any place that was more beautiful.

His mind wandered and he daydreamed of Ilsa playing on the beach and swimming in the water. Of course he would have to teach her to swim but he could see her laughing and playing happily here. Then he realized if she were to play on this beautiful beach she would surely die. Like the Venus Fly Trap, this place of beauty was a dead trap for the unwary. He closed his eyes to block out the image he had created.

The Brigadier was handing out their equipment; a dull knife, sewing pins and a wooden stake to mark the mines. An area had already been marked off. They lined up, thirty abreast and ten feet apart. They then got down on their knees to begin the slow process of locating and disarming the mines. No one spoke or even wanted to. Their entire concentration was on the deadly task before them. At noon, they were given water and a 30 minute rest period before having to return to their work. In the afternoon, the sun beat down on them and the southerly wind chapped their faces and hands. Sand got into every crease and crevice, causing them severe irritation and misery. At the end of the day they each had disarmed four mines. Karl couldn't see them completing one mile during his lifetime, let alone the twenty-five that they were required to do.

Karl was starving and eagerly was looking forward to dinner. It had been three days since he had eaten and his belly was protesting loudly. Entering the Mess Tent with his friends, Karl picked up a bowl and a spoon. He was then given a thin bowl of a grey gruel he couldn't identify and a hunk of bread the size of his fist. To wash it down, he was given a glass of water. Not caring what the mystery substance was, Karl sat down and ate it hungrily. Karl was tired and his back and knees hurt but he was happy sitting there eating with his friends. Talking about the day helped ease the tension that had formed a knot between his shoulder blades.

Everyone talked about how nothing had happened today and perhaps the task was not going to be as hard as they thought it would be. They were slapping each other on the back and congratulating each other. Laughter and friendship rang out in the small tent. Karl noticed Johannes said nothing during this time. He just sat there eating with a grim look on his face, keeping his own counsel.

After washing their dishes, Karl, Ralf and Johannes walked over to the shade tree and sat down. Johannes was looking down at something between his boots, not speaking. Finally Karl couldn't stand the silence any longer.

"Johannes, you were quiet during dinner. Is something the matter?"

Looking up at Karl, Johannes gave a tired sigh. "Don't be fooled by our luck today and don't mistake it for anything but luck. You can't let your guard down and get cocky. This is dangerous work and even with the proper tools, which we don't have, accidents will happen. I wouldn't be surprised if most of the guys here won't be by the end of the month."

Karl looked at his friend. It was now or never, he thought to himself. "Johannes, you seem to know a lot of stuff that doesn't fall into your stated job description. How do you know the things you do and what aren't you telling us?"

"Do you want to tell us everything about what you did in the war Karl? Is there any little secrets you are hiding?" Johannes asked in a somewhat mocking tone. Karl dropped his head, not able to meet Johannes eyes any longer. "That is what I thought." Pausing he continued, "There are things we don't want others to know about ourselves. I admit I might have been in a certain position before the end of the war to know certain information but like you Karl, I prefer that information to stay hidden."

"I understand Johannes. I won't ask again." Karl said quietly.

Johannes smiled, "Why so glum? We got a food, clothes, shelter and good friends. What more could we need?"

The second day was much like the first but they were given coffee, a hunk of cheese and a piece of bread for breakfast. It was just after the noon break when it happened. The explosion immediately killed five prisoners and seriously wounded four more. Luckily Karl and his friends were on the other end of the line and physically unhurt. Upon seeing what was left of the five unlucky prisoners and hearing the screams of the wounded, Ralf buried his face in Karl's uniform and cried.

Seeing Ralf was about to be sick, Karl helped him down to the water's edge, followed closely by a guard. Taking off their boots, Karl wade Ralf into the ocean and began to put ocean water on his face to help calm his down. Turning back to look at the guard, Karl saw a sympathetic look on his face but his weapon was pointed directly at him. Karl understood the message, comfort the boy but anything else will get you shot.

Author's notes:

_1 Commandant is the French Calvary's equivalent to Major _

_2 Brigadier is the French Calvary's equivalent to Corporal_

_3 Sturmbannfuhrer is the SS equivalent to a Major_

_4 The American's named the SMi-35 and SMi-44 'Bouncing Betties' while the French called them 'The Silent Soldiers'. Over 23,000 were planted on the southern beaches of France in anticipation of the Allies invasion of Italy. _

_5 American training manuals warned of casualties up to 140 meters._

_There was an estimated 50,000 German POWs in France engaged in landmine removal between mid 1945 and 1947. It is believed that 1,800 POWs and 500 Frenchmen lost their life during this operation. __There where millions of landmines buried during the war. Europe continues to have a serious problem with the landmines which were laid by both the Axis and Allies during WWII._

_For all those who have been worried about what Hogan and the rest of the Heroes have been up to, you do not have to wait much longer. In the next chapter entitled '__**Frankfurt**__' you will get to see what Hogan and the boys have been up to and get to meet some interesting people along the way. Please don't forget to R & R, they are my bread and butter._


	5. Frankfurt am Main

**Frankfurt am Main**

_The meeting described in this chapter is purely fictional. It is a device I am using to convey the attitudes at the time regarding the German situation by the Allies. Everything that is in italics is direct a quote from the individual speaking. These quotes come from conversations, speeches and things written about the events mentioned._

Near the Allied Command Headquarters, Hogan sat at a table outside a small coffee shop. The new star on his shoulder twinkled in the sunlight. He looked at the time and sighed. In an hour he had to be in a meeting with the top brass. He hated these meetings and wished he had never accepted the promotion. He loved flying between the clouds. Being a desk jockey and pushing papers all day was not his idea of a good time. Hogan knew he was just stalling, putting off the inevitable. His presence was required and there was no point it ticking off the brass when you didn't have too.

He started up to get up when he heard his named called. Turning he spied his friend and trusted staff member, Master Sergeant James Kinchloe. He waved Kinch over to his table and offered him a chair.

"You know I'm never going to get used to calling you General, sir." Kinch said as he sat down.

"I don't think I'm going to ever get used to hearing it. I keep turning around, thinking they're addressing someone else." Hogan said as he sipped his lukewarm coffee. Waving the waiter over, Hogan ordered a refill for himself and a cup for Kinch.

"Any word yet Kinch?" Hogan asked hoping to hear some good news.

"Some but not as good as we had hoped." Kinch answered placing a book on the table. "I was able to track him to Bad Kreuznach but he was already gone when I got there. Apparently the convoy handling the guards spilt up. Klink, Schultz and most of the guards went to Heibronn, as planned, but about a fourth of the convoy was diverted."

Sliding the book over to Hogan, Kinch continued. "Langenscheidt's belongings were still there in storage. I took the book and an old pocket watch from his duffle bag. From the way the watch had been packed I am assuming it was a family heirloom. It probably belonged to his father or grandfather. The book was also very carefully packed. It must have meant a lot to him."

Hogan looked at the book entitled 'Des Knaben Wunderhorn (1) by Achim von Arnim and Clemens Brentano'. Opening the book he read an inscription '_Thank you for believing in me when no one else did. I will always be grateful. Forever your student, Rudolph Mahler.'_

"I had forgotten he was a teacher before the war." Hogan said fingering the book. Turning a few pages he found a small yellow flower carefully pressed between the pages. "I wonder what is the story behind this." he said as he held up the small delicate flower.

"Don't you remember sir? It was late March. Cumba and Wilson had sat up with Patterson for five days before he finally succumbed to the pneumonia and died. The Lieutenant was really upset even though they had done everything they could to save him. Langenscheidt spied some wild flowers just outside the gate peeking up through the snow and went out and picked them for her."

Hogan smiled at the little flower. "I remember now. He took them to her and she was so tickled, she tucked one into his Schiffchen (2). He must have forgotten about it because he walked around half the day with it in his cap. No one said anything about it, not even the other guards. Everyone was getting too good of a chuckle watching him walk around with that flower sticking out of his cap. That is until Klink saw him and put him on guard duty outside the fence."

"I'm not so sure he forgot. Spirits were pretty low on both sides and watching him that day cheered up a lot of people." Kinch said wistfully.

Hogan carefully placed the flower back where he had found it. Carefully he continued looking through its pages. The only other item he had found was the picture of Ilsa that Cumba's parents had sent. "She must have given this to him shortly before he left camp." Hogan said looking at the picture of the small girl they had smuggled out of Germany. Placing the picture back into the book, he softly closed the book and stared at it for a moment.

"Do we know anything about where he might have gone when he left the camp?" Hogan asked still looking at the book.

"I've been able to track him to Avignon, France. The group of a thousand men he was with was split up there into eight groups, each going in eight different directions." Kinch said.

Sliding the book back to Kinch Hogan said, "Keep looking. I made a promise and I am going to do everything in my power to keep it."

"I already got feelers out and I contacted LeBeau. I told him to have him and his friends keep an eye out for him. Don't worry sir, we'll find him."

The waiter came out with the coffee and apologized, stating he had to brew a fresh pot for the General. Just as he was about to turn and leave the table a voice rang out. "You'd better fetch me a cuppa, mate." Newkirk said as he slipped into the third chair.

"Out bird watchn' guv'nor?" Newkirk said with a cheeky grin.

"I hardly recognized you in civvies, Newkirk." Kinch said with a smile. "Your not AWOL are you sergeant?"

"I wish." laughed Newkirk. "They got a bit of a problem with some wankers making trouble, trying to stir things up a bit. So they asked me to go down and take a look around. See what the lay of the land is. All of it is in the black (3) of course."

"You be careful Newkirk. Call us if you need anything." Hogan said.

"Oh don't you worry sir. You're the first one I'm calling." Newkirk replied.

Hogan looked at his watch and groaned. "I got to go, meeting with the brass." As he stood up Hogan added, "When you're finished, look us up. We'll go out, have drinks together and pick up pretty frauleins."

"Your on, guv'nor." replied Newkirk with a grin.

Hogan placed money on the table for their bill. As he left, both men watched while Hogan wearily headed off to his meeting at the IG Farben Building. (4)

"So I see they've given you a nice promotion Kinch. Congratulations, nobody deserves it more." said Newkirk looking at his friend.

"Thanks Peter. Hogan is pushing to get me into Warrant Officer School but he is being met with some resistance." replied Kinch.

"If anyone can do it it'll be the guv'ner." Newkirk said as he took out a cigarette and lit it. Out of the corner of his eye he watched the looks they were getting from the various military personnel passing by. Some looks were covert, others were openly hostile. Newkirk sighed and felt empathy for Kinch. Now that they were back in the real world, Kinch was to having to deal with the prejudice that Hogan wouldn't stand for back at the camp. He hated them for their blindness. Instead of seeing the excellent solider sitting next to him, all they could see was his color.

"I never thought you'd be one to jump the counter Kinch." Newkirk said jokingly.

Kinch laughed. "Neither did I, Peter."

Changing the subject Newkirk asked, "How is little Sister doing?"

"Last I heard she was at Campbell Barracks helping to set up a hospital for the Seventh Army at Grossdeutschland-Karserne in Heidelberg." Kinch said sipping his coffee. "Oh by the way, she is a Captain now. They weren't sure if they should promote her or courts marshal her for her handling of the medical situation at Stalag 13. Some of the brass got their shorts in a knot because she treated German soldiers. It didn't matter to them she did it in exchange for medical supplies for us. And of course there was the whole issue regarding Langenscheidt. Cooler heads finally prevailed and she got promoted. They wanted to send her back to the states but she kicked up a pretty big fuss to stay in Germany."

Newkirk snorted, "I'm sure she took no prisoners. Has Langenscheidt turned up yet?"

"No, we're still looking. We think he might be in France." Kinch quietly replied.

"Bad bit of business that is," Newkirk said while taking a deep drag on his cigarette.

A heavy silence fell between the two men. Newkirk finally broke the spell by asking about Carter.

"He is on loan to the Combat Engineers. They are working on a plan to safely remove the unexploded ordinance that seems to be everywhere. Not to mention the miles and miles of landmines that need to be cleared." Kinch gave a sad half smile at the mention of the kinetic sergeant.

"What's wrong Kinch?" Newkirk asked picking up on his friend's mood.

"It's Hogan. He's not cut out for the politics that goes along with the stars. You know him. See a problem, fix a problem. But that's not how it works at Allied Command. Everything is politics and negotiations. He's starting to talk about retirement." Kinch said as he looked off into space somewhere. "The problem is if he was to retire I think it would kill him, he loves being in the thick of things."

Newkirk nodded sympathetically. "Damned if you do and damned if you don't."

Kinch looked at his watch. "Sorry Peter but I've got to get back to the office. Being senior NCO on the General's staff has it perks but it has its headaches too." Rising from his chair, Kinch tapped the table. "Call me when you get back from this little adventure and let me know your ok."

Smiling up at his friend Newkirk saluted and said, "Will do."

HHHHHHHHHH

Hogan stood in the conference room waiting for the meeting to begin. Fidgeting and needing something to do with his hands, Hogan poured himself a cup of coffee and found a seat at the conference table. He quickly stood back up and saluted when Lieutenant General Lucius D. Clay (5) and John K McCloy (6) came in the room. The General returned his salute and crossed the room to shake Hogan's hand. "That was some mighty fine work you did over in Hamelburg, Hogan." General Clay said. "You and your men did a lot to help shorten the war."

"Thank you sir. Just doing my job and following my orders." Hogan said, returning the hand shake.

General Clay laughed and said, "That's not how I hear it."

Both General Clay and Mr. McCloy sat down near the head of the table. Hogan decided to remain standing in order not to feel like a jack in the box when higher level brass came into the conference room. He did not have to wait long before General Walter Tillman (7) entered the room. Upon seeing Hogan he smiled broadly and slapped Hogan on the back.

"It's good to see you again Hogan. I see they finally gave you the stars you deserve."

"Yes sir and it's also good to see you again." Hogan said modestly.

They had just started to talk about old time when they were all called to attention. Into the room walked Judge Robert H Jackson (8), Lieutenant General George S. Patton and General of the Army Dwight D. Eisenhower, Military Governor of the American Occupational Zone. General Eisenhower acknowledged everyone and sat down at the head of the table. Everyone followed suit and found their seats.

"Let's get this meeting started. I have to be in Washington at 1500 hours tomorrow to brief the President. I think everyone knows Judge Jackson." Everyone nodded and murmured affirmatives. "Sir, how are things going for these bastards to stand trial for crimes against humanity?" Eisenhower growled.

"General, things are progressing quickly. The armies have been quiet diligent in recording the atrocities that have been committed during this war. Unless there is an unforeseen delay, we should be starting the first trials at the beginning of the year. General Hogan has been a great help with his excellent recording keeping and our being able to identify potential witnesses." Judge Jackson reported.

"Good." replied Eisenhower. "I don't want any of these animals to slip through. I hate every one of them. They make me _hate the fact I have a German name_."

"With all due respect sir, I think we need to discuss JCS 1067 (9) and the problems were having regarding the German POWs." interjected General Patton.

"I really don't want to have to discuss this again. The Germans need to know we are serious and we are not going to coddle them so they can start another war. Do not attempt to make me the villain here. I am only acting on my orders from Washington." General Eisenhower said while drumming his fingers on the table.

"With all due respect sir, I think we should discuss it. While I appreciate the delicate position you are in, the problems we are facing are not going to go away. By reclassifying the German POWS as a defeated force, you have inadvertently opened them up to extreme abuse and hardship." replied General Patton with his own bluster. "_I am opposed to sending POWs to work as slaves in foreign lands, in particular France, where many will be starved to death."_

Eisenhower narrowed his eyes at his friend and member of his staff. "You know I had no choice George. The Geneva Convention states we have to give them at least 2000 calories a day. There just isn't enough food to feed them. If you haven't noticed, all of Europe is starving. You add in all the displaced people fleeing from the East and you can see what a problem we have."

"Sirs I am new to this staff and I apologize if I am stepping out of line but there is food rotting in warehouses. There are massive amounts of food being shipped to Germany which is being turned away and yet people are starving. I don't understand." remarked Hogan.

"The problem Hogan," replied General Tillman, "is there are strict sanctions imposed on Germany. Germany is only allowed to produce twenty-five percent of their pre-war production so even if the food was allowed in, they couldn't pay for it. Allied governments want Germany to become an agricultural country."

"But Germany was the industrial center of Europe. By trying to make it an agricultural state, you are tinkering with all of Europe's economy." Hogan said with respect but a firm note in his voice. "How is anyone going to recover? Didn't we learn anything after WWI?"

General Clay turned to Hogan and said, "_I feel that the Germans should suffer from hunger and cold as I believe such suffering is necessary to make them realize the consequences of the war which they have started_."

"With respect sir, I was here working side by side with Germans who were helping us and trying to do the right thing. What have they to show for it but living under a regime that is harsher than the one they fought against." Hogan stated with passion in his voice.

"Are you making reference to that little pet project of yours General?" Eisenhower said to Hogan while giving him a guarded look.

"I strongly feel as a solider and a former POW, we have an obligation to those who have been placed under our authority. Giving the POWs away to be slave labor under current conditions, are similar to Andersonville and Dachau, is morally reprehensible." replied Hogan. "What about the one hundred and four dead German POWs found in a boxcar at Mailly or the twenty seven dead at Attichy? Don't we have some sort of moral obligation for their care?"

Eisenhower hit his fist upon the table. "I have apologized to the Germans for that. It causes me extreme irritation that I have to apologize for anything to them."

"If I may weigh in on this debate sir," Judge Jackson asked quietly. "In my due diligence for the upcoming trials, I have found that to a certain extent the Allies _have done or doing some of the very things we are prosecuting the Germans for. The French are so violating the Geneva Convention in the treatment of prisoners that _some in_ our command are taking back prisoners sent to them. We are prosecuting plunder and our Allies are practicing it."_

Patton gave a thin smile from his side of the table. "_It amusing to recall that we fought the Revolution in defense of the rights of men and the civil war to abolish slavery and we have now gone back on the same principles."_

"At this point sir, we are only talking about the French use of slave labor but all the Allies are guilty. True the Americans and British Commonwealth are treating them well but a slave is a slave. Operation Keelhaul (10) is well named. Those Russians do not want to go back. They know what they are facing, a quick execution or a long one living in a gulag. Their only crime is they were taken prisoners. Don't we have a responsibility to them? We are going to wait until Stalin releases our men before we return these poor souls to him? (11)" stated an irate Hogan.

"You're going to have to do something General," General Tilliman quietly added. "The newspapers in both America and Britain are running articles denouncing the policies concerning POWs. They are reporting French sources as saying an average of two thousand prisoners are being killed or maimed each month."

Eisenhower put his head in his hands and mumbled, "Why can we have a nice quiet war for once?"

_1 The Youth's Magic Horn _

_2 German Garrison cap_

_3 Classified operations_

_4 Headquarters for the Supreme Allied Command_

_5 Deputy Military Governor of Germany_

_6 U S Assistant Secretary of War_

_7 How to Cook a German Goose by Radar_

_8 Chief US Prosecutor of the Nuremburg Trials_

_9 JCS 1067 or Joint Chief of Staff Directive 1067 otherwise known as the Morgenthau Plan._

_10 Operation Keelhaul states all Allied prisoners will be returned to their home countries whether or not they wish to be repatriated or not. Many went so far as to physically fight their repartition, without success, knowing the fate that awaited them. Stalin was so paranoid that he thought any one who was taken prisoner was a traitor and deserved a traitor's fate. Stalin had refused to negotiate with the Germans when his son was captured and he died in a German POW camp. To keelhaul someone is an old maritime punishment in which a person was tied so they could not move and then dragged underwater behind the ship from one side to another, sometimes from the back of the ship to the front. Very few lived through this punishment._

_11 Many Allied POWs were never released by Stalin and died in his gulags and work camps._


	6. Crisis

**Crisis**

_We will have to leave the Heroes for now but rest assured we will see them again. We will especially again see that scamp Newkirk who has gone off to do what he does best, getting himself into trouble. (Did I just hear Sierra Sutherwinds squeal with delight?)_

Back at IC 38, one of the guards had given the men a ball which they used to play football and volleyball Sunday afternoons. Today the men were having a spirited game of volleyball with all the trash talk that goes along with competitive sports between friends. For a little while they were able to forget where they were and just men having a good time.

Karl had just spiked the ball over the net and scoring his side with another point when suddenly an alarm sounded. Immediately the compound was full of French guards, fully armed and yelling for them to get into formation. They were pushed and shoved into formation. Karl was extremely nervous as the guards appeared ready to fire upon them at any moment. Two guards were comparing the prisoners with the pictures they had on file. There were other guards in the tents ransacking the place. The Commandant stomped into the compound followed by the Brigadier. Using the enlisted man as an interrupter, the Commandant made the following announcement.

"You filthy God forsaken pigs! It appears that I have been too leasy with you. Fifteen minutes ago my men came across the body of Private Muller. His throat had been cut and he had been stuffed into a trash can behind the officer's mess. I will not go to the trouble of asking if any of you know anything about it."

The Commandant's speech was interrupted by one of the guards who quietly relayed some information to his superior officer. A deep frown crossed the Commandant's face and he began addressing the men again.

"This morning at roll call, all the men here were present and accounted for. Now it seems that we are missing two prisoners, Koch and Fischer. Do not worry they will be caught and I will hang their bodies on the wire so you will know I will not be defied. I deem it a personal insult that the man I had chosen to speak with you animals has been murdered. I do not care if you kill each other. It would be better for the world if you did but I will not let this insult upon my honor go unpunished. These tents are to be taken down and you will be on half rations until further notice."

The guards held the men at gun point while they took down the tents, leaving them to have to sleep, eat, bathe and defecate in the open air. The shelves that had been provided for their meager possessions were removed leaving the men to have to place their belonging under their pillows for safe keeping.

The men sat in silence under the tree in the compound. Karl half expected for the guards to come in and cut it down just to spite them. Really what could any of them say? So far their diet consisted of water, a piece of bread and small hunk of cheese for breakfast and water, a thin soup and another piece of bread for dinner. As it was they were hungry all the time. Now to have those rations cut in half. His belly tightened in protest. Karl tried to comfort himself by telling himself it was only for a short period and then the Commandant would give them their full rations and their tents back. He tried to give Ralf a weak smile of reassurance but it came out more of a grimace than a smile. They all sat under that tree for hours not speaking until it was time for final roll call and bed.

Karl was emotionally spent when he laid his head on his pillow. He closed his eyes to a fitful sleep. Upon waking in the morning, he found he was just as tired as when he had laid down. In a depressed silence, they all walked to the dinning area after roll call. There they were given a half of a slice of bread and some water. Afterwards they lined up to get on the transport trucks only to be told that they would have to walk to the job site. With resigned acceptance, Karl marched to the beach and began their task of clearing the mines.

At lunchtime, Karl looked forward to the break and a drink of water but was told there would be no break or water rations. No one argued with the guards. The prisoners returned to their task in silence. The heat of the day beat down on the men without relief. When the day ended, they were marched back to camp.

Upon entering the camp, Karl noticed a hushed, expectant silence among the guards. He could feel their eyes boring into him and he felt a sense that something horrible was waiting for them at their compound. Upon rounding the last corner, Karl saw Koch and Fischer hanging from the wire, just as the Commandant had promised. Karl turned his head away from the grisly sight. Several of the men stopped dead in their tracks. A rifle butt between the shoulder blades got them moving again.

Entering the compound, Karl saw that there were more POWs in camp. Karl thought there was about twice the amount as his current group. There were more bunks in the sleeping area but clearly not enough to accommodate all the new men. Everyone was lined up and told that there were not enough bunks so they would have to share. There were promises that new bunks would be arriving soon but Karl did not believe it. At dinner time, they were given a soup made will bullion and nothing else.

Several days passed by. The bodies of the two escapees had been removed after 24 hours. Several of the new prisoners replaced those that they had died or been maimed on the beach. The others were used in clearing rubble, locating and disposing of unexploded ordinance. Everyday was pretty much like the next one. The blanket of depression and despair suffocated any small joy that was to be found. Karl had resigned himself to the malignant sense of hopelessness and acceptance of his fate.

Karl came upon Johannes sitting under the tree. His head was hung down with his chin touching his chest. Karl attempted to speak to him but Johannes seemed confused and disoriented. He noticed Johannes' hands and face were swollen. Karl put his arm around Johannes and took him and placed him into his lower bunk.

"You must get him out of the bunk." A guard told Karl. "It is not time for bed."

"He is sick." replied Karl. "He needs medical treatment."

The guard gave Karl a skeptical look, reached down and touched Johannes' forehead. "No fever. Not sick. Get up." he commanded.

When Karl attempted to protest, he was shoved back against the next bunk and Johannes was pulled from the bed onto the ground. The guard then turned and left without another word. "Can I have some water for him at least?" Karl called to the guard.

The guard said over his shoulder to Karl, "No, he has had his ration for today."

Karl placed Johannes' head on his shoulder and attempted to give him some assurance that things would be alright. Ralf came over and sat on the other side of Johannes trying to offer the older man what little comfort he could. Johannes began murmuring to himself.

"What did you say, Johannes?" asked Karl.

At first, Johannes did not answer. Then in a small tired voice he said, "Where is Rosemarie?"

"She is at home safe and sound at home with your daughters and grandson." Karl said hoping to give Johannes some small bit of comfort.

"I know who you are Karl." Johannes said weakly.

"Of course you do." Karl said. "We have been though a lot together."

"No, you don't understand. I came into possessions of some files the Gestapo had regarding Stalag 13. When I heard people were looking for you, I put two and two together. I befriended you so that if anyone came to get you, I could talk you into getting them to take me too." Johannes said barely above a whisper. "I just wanted to see my family. I have never seen my grandson. I just wanted to go home."

Karl began to rock Johannes in his arms. "It's all right Johannes. If anyone had come for me I would have asked that you and Ralf be able to come too. Maybe they will come tomorrow and then your wife can cook us a fine meal."

Johannes lapsed into silence. Both Karl and Ralf tried to encourage him to hang on, that help would come tomorrow. When bedtime came, Karl and Ralf lifted Johannes into his bunk. Karl pulled the blanket from his bed and placed it over Johannes. Ralf took Karl's bunk in an effort to be closer to the two men. Karl sat next to Johannes throughout the night, holding his hand and praying for a miracle. _Colonel Hogan_, he thought to himself, _if you are going to do one of your famous last minute rescues, now is the time to do it_.

Morning came and Karl attempted to wake Johannes and found that he could not. He called for the guard who slapped Johannes. With no response from Johannes, the guard went to get help. Two guards came with a stretcher and carried him away. Karl worried about his friend all day. He comforted himself in the thought that at least Johannes was getting medical help now. When he arrived back in camp he immediately sought out the Brigadier to see if he knew anything about Johannes' condition.

The Brigadier looked down and then back up at Karl. Shaking his head he said, "I am sorry but your friend passed away around noon. They said it was renal failure from severe dehydration."

Karl was speechless, his mouth moved but no words came out. He looked at the Brigadier but really didn't see him. _How could this happen_, he thought. He wanted to scream that it wasn't fair. He longed to hit someone or something but he found he didn't have the energy. He roamed the compound until he found Ralf. He gently told him the fate of their friend. Karl expected Ralf to throw himself into his arms and cry. Instead Ralf just gave him a blank look and turned away to stare somewhere on the other side of the wire. Karl tried to encourage him to speak but Ralf just walked away and disappeared into the crowd.

Karl tried that night and again in the morning but Ralf remained silent. Looking into his eyes, Karl saw a dullness that had not bee there before. The sparkle and laughter of youth had been torn away leaving a grey husk of what had been there before. He thought about it all that morning while he worked. He tried several different scenarios in his head but no answers came to him. He was filled with frustration and helplessness. He had lost one friend and he was losing another. Karl was at a loss as to what to do.

As he thought about these things, he felt a pair of eyes on him. At first he didn't look up, frightened at what he would find. Finally he raised his eyes and saw Ralf looking at him. His heart ached at the pain he saw on the boy's face. He saw something there that he had not seen before, the finality of a decision. Karl was at first unsure of what this meant. He slowly stood up not taking his eyes off his friend. Staring at Ralf, Karl felt a cold shiver go down his spine. Somehow he knew what he was seeing but it was if his mind had refused to recognize or accept it.

Karl heard the guards somewhere in the far distance telling him to get back to work. Time seemed to slow down as he tried to piece together what his friend was trying to tell him. Ralf gave him as sad smile. Karl watched at Ralf's hand reached down to the exposed mine. His mind began screaming for Ralf to stop but his thoughts near left his lips. Karl was able to take one step towards Ralf, when his world turned to agony.

Lying on the ground, Karl's body screamed in pain. He could hear men screaming and others shouting. Nothing mattered. He could see the spot where Ralf had been. There was only redness there now. Pieces of what had been his friend lay scattered on the beach. He felt numb and hoped death had come to take him from this place.

The guards came and dragged him further inland, where he was placed on a truck with the rest of the injured. Karl was alone now. He closed his eyes to let the blackness take him.

Karl opened his eyes when the truck stopped. There were some cows on the road, blocking the truck. As the guards attempted to disperse the herd, without thinking, Karl half climbed and half fell off of the back of the truck. His body was screaming him pain telling him to stop. His mind told him to keep going. _If you're going to die Karl, die a free man. _

Somewhere in the distance, Karl heard the truck start up again. Apparently the guards did not notice he was gone. Karl thanked the Lord for small favors and tried to find a place to hide. He knew he was leaving a blood trail. The first thing he had to do was stop the bleeding. Finding a small stream, he tried to clean his wounds. Carefully removing his shirt, he did his best to bind the wound on his upper left thigh and left forearm. Now he walked two miles down stream to help cover his tracks. From there he walked until he found a small shed behind a store that had closed for the evening.

He thanked every saint he could think of for finding the door unlocked. There making a nest behind some large crates, Karl lay down to rest and plan what to do next. As night descended, Karl found he could not rest. Every creak and moan put him on alert and the fear of being found rushed through his veins like fire. Surely they had discovered he was gone by now and were out looking for him. He was glad there was no moon tonight. It would make it harder for him to navigate but it would also make it harder for anyone to spot him.

Slowly and painfully he crept from his hiding place and into the night. Home was the only thought on his mind as he headed out of town into the nearby woods. _Keep from the population _he told himself _and only move at night_. The first order of business would be to obtain some civilian clothing. He knew his being in uniform would stand out like a beacon in a darkened room.

And so, Karl's journey home had begun.

_Thanks to everyone who is reading this story. I am so grateful to all of you. The next chapter called '__**Friends'**__ will have Karl continuing his attempts to get home. It will also have him meet someone new and someone from his past. _


	7. Friends

**Friends **

_I know I said Karl would meet two friends in this chapter but I had so much fun writing about his new friend I ran out of space for the old friend. Don't worry. You will get to meet the old friend next chapter. I promise. Hopefully you will be pleasantly surprised._

As the sun broke over the horizon, Karl stopped to try and get his bearings. Out of breath he leaned against a nearby tree. His leg had started bleeding again. Sliding to the ground, he leaned his back against the tree and closed his eyes. He had been using the North Star as a guide but knew he couldn't keep heading north. Even in fit condition he would never be able to cross the Maritime Alps without assistance. With his current injuries, he knew it would be impossible. He considered heading south but that would put him into contact with local villages and open fields. Both would cause him to be easily spotted and captured. Karl looked around for a more concealed location to get some sleep. He spied a tree hollow which was partly hidden by some undergrowth.

Karl had difficulty getting to his feet. The short time he had been sitting there had caused his leg to stiffen. Using the tree, he was able to painfully pull himself up into a standing position. He carefully surveyed the ground where he had been sitting and using his foot, covered the blood stains with some of the ground debris. Limping to the hollow he saw it would be a tight fit but he should be hidden from the casual observer.

Getting down on his hands and knees he crawled into the hole. He checked the ground for guano and anything that might be making the hollow its home. Seeing none, he pulled the rest of himself into the hole. There was only room for him to sit with his knees against his chest. His leg screamed in protest but gradually the pain dulled to a throbbing ache. Feeling safer than he had felt in the open, Karl put his head on his knees, closed his eyes and fell asleep.

When Karl awoken in the late afternoon, he noted it had gotten cooler. Shaking off the last vestiges of sleep, he realized it was raining. He thought about whether to leave his hidey hole or remain where he was. On one hand, the rain would help cover his trail, especially any blood trail he might leave. On the other hand, the rain could drain what little strength he had left, leaving him more vulnerable to hypothermia. It would also be difficult to navigate without using the sun or the stars as a guide.

Karl used his hands to catch the falling rain and drank as much as he could. He knew he would have to stay hydrated if he was going to have any chance of success. By slowly turning himself, he was able to place his boots outside of the tree. He legs did not wish to cooperate because they had gone to sleep. He wondered what hell he would have to pay when they woke up. Checking his leg, he saw that it had stopped bleeding. He suspected if he got up, it would open up again.

He took stock of his situation. He had no food, medical supplies or even a compass. He knew if he kept the North Star over his left shoulder he would be headed east. That would lead him to Italy but what would he do once he got there. He thought about the pros and cons of traveling during the day. He would be more easily spotted during the day but less likely to injure him self tripping over something in the dark. His injuries were sure to become infected unless he found some way to keep them clean.

Not sure of exactly where he was, he thought it would be best to try and find a trail or a road. Each was sure to take him somewhere. If he found a farm house, perhaps he might be able to find some food and clean clothes. Karl hated the idea of stealing from people who had so little but didn't see as he had much choice.

Karl noticed the rain had let up. He decided it would be best to keep moving. When it started to get dark again he would try and find a dry place to sleep. Along the way he might be able to locate berries and other woodland edibles. He needed some protein but didn't have anything to make a snare or a trap.

Slowly pulling himself out of the hollow, Karl pulled himself into a standing position. Pain shot up from his sorely abused leg. He bit his lip to keep from crying out in pain. Looking around, he spied a large branch that he could make into a walking stick. That would enable him to keep some of his weight off of his leg. After breaking off the smaller branches, Karl tested it to make sure it would hold his weight. Satisfied with the results he headed off in search of food and shelter.

Soon the sun began to peek out from behind the clouds. He made sure to keep the sun behind him as he walked. While Karl walked he listened for any signs of someone pursuing him. He found some red berries but he remembered his training. If he didn't know what type of red berry it was to leave it alone, as if was probably poisonous. He knew that most blue berries were fine to eat so he kept a look out for those. He also filled his pockets with acorns, hoping he would be able to build a fire to roast them. Karl also remembered that the lichen was good but to stay away from any mushrooms and fungus. It was too easy to mistake one kind for another.

As dusk fell, Karl looked for suitable shelter. Finally he saw an old shed, near the edge of the clearing. In the far distance he saw the farm house. The shed looked abandoned so he eased himself inside, kicking aside the scurrying mice. He was relieved to find it was dry inside with enough dry material for him to make a small fire. It took some work and his arms and shoulders were tired and sore but he was able to get a fire started. Karl hoped in the dark, no one would be able to see the smoke from the fire.

Using a flat rock, he started to roast his acorns. Using a small coffee can he found, he was able to trap a small field mouse. He picked the mouse up and looked at it. "I hope your name isn't Felix." he said as he broke its neck. Using the edge of the top of another can, Karl skinned the mouse and placed it on the rock to cook.

After he had finished eating, he looked around for things he could use. He found a burlap bag without a mouse chewed hole. In it he placed the coffee can and can lid. He also placed some dry kindling inside along with the flat rock once it had cooled. He then attempted to relax. Periodically he went to the door to check on the farm house. He was only willing to sleep once he saw the farm house was dark.

Before the sun broke over the horizon, Karl had already done everything he could to hide the fact he had been in the shed. He left the out building and resumed this eastward trek. While keeping to the cover of the forest, Karl explored his options. If he continued to head east, he would undoubtedly come upon some check points before he got to the border. He was chewing his lip as he tried to think of a solution to his problem when he came upon another clearing. Staying in the shadows, he assessed his options. He would be too exposed trying to cross the open field. He moved further into the interior of the woods and walked parallel to the clearings edge.

He had walked about a quarter of a mile when he spotted a man sitting at the edge of the clearing, painting. Intrigued, Karl moved closer to see what they man was painting. When he got to the edge of the clearing, he accidently stepped on a branch. The sound of it snapping caused the man to turn and look at Karl.

Karl froze not knowing what to do. The artist made movements with his hand beckoning Karl to come closer. As he slowly approached the man, he saw the man appeared to be in his sixties with a well worn face.

"Cubism?" Karl asked pointing at the painting.

"What does a good Nazi boy know of Cubism?" (1) the old man asked with s sly smile.

"I am not a Nazi." The denial sounded strained even to Karl's ears.

The old man regarded him thoughtfully. "You are the missing prisoner from Antibes, no?"

"Yes." Karl replied.

"Hmm, a German who speaks French and is knowledge about art, will wonders never cease? Do you speak any other languages?"

"I speak English but not as well as my French." replied Karl.

The old man nodded and returned to his painting.

"You are not French. You have a slight accent, Spanish maybe?" Karl said while he watched the man paint.

"You have a good ear, boy." the old man chuckled.

"Could you tell me where I am?" Karl asked.

"You are on the eastern side of Vence. To the southeast is Nice."

"And the next town?" Karl asked.

"I wouldn't worry about the next town. If you keep going east, you'll have to deal with La Var." the old man said pausing from his work.

"LaVar?"

"It's a very large river. You will not be able to swim it. The water will be too cold even for an experienced swimmer." He turned and looked at Karl. "You look dead on your feet. Would you like to come home with me and get a good meal? Perhaps rest for the night?"

"You do not want to turn me in?" asked a Karl surprised.

"I am not French and I do not subscribe to political parties." He said as he gathered up his art supplies. "The light is fading so I can do no more painting. My car is close and the farm house I rent is not far away."

"Thank you for your kindness. My name is Karl." he said as he held out his hand to the artist.

"Hello Karl, my name is Pablo." The man said shaking Karl's hand.

Karl drew in a sharp deep breath, "Pablo Picasso (2)? I wanted to meet you when I was in Paris (3) but I was not able to." Karl gushed with a big grin on his face.

"Why were you in Paris, Karl?" Picasso asked as they walked towards his car.

"We were there to see Monsieur Verlaine. He is an artist too. Do you know him?" asked Karl.

"I know of him. Are you a fan of his work?" asked Picasso with an amused tone in his voice.

"He is a friend of a friend. I've only seen one picture he has done and that was a copy of someone else's work." Karl replied.

"Exactly!" Picasso laughed as he placed his tools into the car. "Let's see what Francoise (4) has fixed for dinner."

After a wonderful bath, clean clothes and a good meal, Karl sat next to the fireplace talking art with Picasso. It had been so long since he had an intellectual discussion with anyone. He felt so good, he wanted to stretch and purr like a kitten in a blanket. They sat there talking late into the night. Karl was surprised he didn't feel tired especially after the long walk he had today.

At some point during the evening, Karl had fallen asleep in the chair. He awoken to find he was covered in a warm blanket. He could smell breakfast cooking and hear the sounds of laughter from the kitchen. He had not felt so at home and comfortable since his last visit home before his mother passed away.

Getting up from the chair, he joined Picasso and Francoise in the kitchen. A hot breakfast was placed in front of him and he ate hungrily. Afterwards they went into Picasso's studio and reviewed a map of the local area. It was decided, Karl's best option was to go east until he hit La Var. He would then turn south, scouting the west bank for a boat. Using the boat, he would cross the river. There was not that many villages on the eastern side of La Var, so he could in theory walk unmolested into Italy. He would head for the nearest rail road yard and steal a ride on the first train heading north to Germany. Both knew such a ride would be long and dangerous but Karl felt it was worth it.

Picasso gave him some spare clothing, matches, sulfur for his arm and leg and some food for his journey. Karl packed it all into his burlap bag. After hugging and thanking both Picasso and Francoise, he set off on his way. For the first time in a long time, he felt happy, light and had hope. Looking at the morning sky, he smiled and thought about Versie and Ilsa. He was determined to be with them again. No one or nothing would stand in his way.

_1. The Nazi's did not approve of this form of art and during the occupation of France; artists were not allowed to display any Cubism paintings._

_2 Picasso did not go the Antibes or the French Rivera until 1946 but once I read he was there, I knew he and Karl had to meet._

_3 Art for Hogan's Sake_

_4 Francoise Gilot was Picasso's primary mistress at this time. She was forty years younger than him and mother of two of his children. Neither child had been born at this time._


	8. Homeward

**Homeward **

It took Karl three days to reach La Var. The terrain had become rougher as he was beginning to enter the foothills of the Maritime Alps. The weather had also turned cooler with the day temperatures averaging about fifteen degrees Celsius and nights around two degrees. When he came near the outskirts of Lingostiere, he made camp and waited for night fall.

Sneaking into the sleeping town, Karl attempted to stay away from the center of town. Near the edge of La Var, saw several boats tied to a nearby dock. Checking several times to ensure the coast was clear, Karl crept into the open and exposed dock. Quietly he made his way to a small rowboat. As quiet as possible he untied the boat and got inside. He had been in a row boat before but La Var was a fast moving river and he was not sure he would be able to handle the boat as quietly as he would like. Often the river's current seemed like it wanted to snatch the oars right out of his hands.

God must have been with Karl as he was able to successfully navigate to the other side. Pushing the rowboat back into the river, he hoped that its owner would think it had just gotten loose by itself. Seeing that it was almost daybreak, Karl hurried as fast as he could past the darken homes and into the nearby woods. Finding a large rock outcropping, he settled behind it for some much needed sleep.

After resting he continued his journey eastward making sure to skirt any towns he came to and to 'pick up' any provisions he needed along the way. Karl made sure to he only took the bare minimum he needed. After he struggled through the rough terrain just north of Monaco, he finally arrived at Melton. Upon seeing the sign for the town, Karl fell to his knees in gratitude. On the other side of the town was the French-Italian border.

He went north around the town making sure he was doubly careful about where he walked. The light was fading so he camped for the night. He had to be extremely careful. This area had been heavily mined. One false step and his journey would abruptly end.

Crossing the border, he knew things were not going to be any easier. For one thing, the only Italian he knew would only end up getting his face slapped by a pretty girl or shot by her outraged father. Secondly, he suspected that his leg was now infected and he may have a slight fever. The pain was almost unbearable even with his walking stick. Karl noticed he was not able to cover as much ground as in the past he had been able to do.

Again waiting until dark, he entered the Italian city of Sanremo. He struggled to find his way around without being noticed. Karl wondered if he was caught would the Italians would turn him over to the French authorities. He didn't think his chances were good since the German-Italian relations were not good even before the war. Stopping in an alley to catch his breath and gather is bearings; Karl's attention was immediately diverted from his musings to the two voices in a nearby doorway. Karl ducked behind two large trash cans and tried to make him self as small as possible.

As the angry voices grew louder, Karl tried to make him self smaller. He listened for any signs that his position might have been compromised. Sitting there in the dark, behind some lovely fragrant refuse bins, Karl thought he recognized one of the voices. Carefully he peeked over the top of the cans but was unable to make out anything but silhouettes. The argument ended when one man slammed the door in the other man's face. The second man turned from the door and was muttering to himself. As he walked, talking to himself and gesturing wildly, he passed by Karl's hiding place. Karl realized knew he knew this man. Taking a leap of faith, Karl reached out and grabbed the man's greatcoat. Startled, the man screamed like a girl.

"Please do not scream; I won't hurt you." Karl said in German while struggling to get to his feet.

Panicked, the man reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, holding it out to Karl. "Here is my money." he said in Italian. "Don't hurt me."

Pushing the wallet back at the man, Karl said "I don't want your money. I need your help."

The man paused and looked at Karl. Putting his wallet back in his pocket, he peered at Karl in the darkness. "You're German!" the man said switching languages.

"Yes and I need your help, please." Karl said leaning against the wall trying to take pressure off his leg.

"I do not know you. I need to call the authorities." the man said as he started to look around for help.

"No, please don't." cried Karl in desperation. "I am Karl Langenscheidt from Stalag 13."

The other man took a step closer and peered at Karl intently. "Ah, it's the little Caporale (1) who meet me on the road (2) and escorted me into the camp." the man said suddenly recognizing Karl.

Relieved to be recognized Karl said, "Yes Maggiore (3) Bonacelli."

"Yes," Bonacelli said frowning. "What do you want with me? You shouldn't be here you know. You could get shot. Worse, you could get me shot."

"I need your help to get back to Germany." Karl said as his hopes dropped.

Raising an eyebrow in alarm, Bonacelli said, "So you do want me to be shot."

"I don't want anyone to be shot, I just need some help." Karl said reaching out to clutch Bonacelli's sleeve in desperation.

"No, I am sorry. I cannot help you; I have enough troubles of my own." Pulling Karl's hand away, Bonacelli turned and started to walk towards the street.

"You met Colonel Hogan and his men in the woods on the north side of camp. He had arranged the escape to make you look good to the Kommandant." Karl cried out in a last ditch effort to change Bonacelli's mind.

Bonacelli pause and looked over his shoulder at Karl. "How do you know this?"

"The Kommandant sent me out with Bismarck, one of the guard dogs, to try and find the escapees. I told Bismarck LeBeau had some strudel for him and he led me straight to all of you. I saw you there with Colonel Hogan and the other escaped prisoners. You were too tired to walk back so the men had to carry you. I ran back all the way in order to get back to camp before you did."

Bonacelli turned and said, "Why?"

"I just needed to know whatever plot Colonel Hogan was up to, it wasn't going to hurt the Kommandant. Since you were coming back to camp, there was no need for me to interfere." replied Karl.

"And you never told anyone?" Bonacelli said slowly.

'No, I kept your secret." Karl said. "And then you came back and helped Hogan get pictures of the secret airbase, (4) I still kept quiet."

Bonacelli stood there looking at Karl dumbstruck and for a few moments unable to speak. "You knew I was an Allied spy. You could have turned me in and gotten a promotion and other rewards, why didn't you?"

Karl's shrugged shyly, "Let's just say we were working towards the same goals."

"So," Bonacelli sighed. "It appears I owe you my life and I repay my debts. What do you need Caporale?"

"I am no longer in the military. My name is Karl." He said with a relieved smile. "I just need to get to the nearest rail yard with trains going to Milan."

"Milan is not that far Karl and neither is my car. Come I will take you to Milan and there you can catch your train to Germany." Bonacelli said holding out his hand to steady Karl as he pulled away from the wall. "Since we are not being formal, you may call me Nicola."

"Thank you," Karl said as he picked up his belonging and followed the Italian out of the alley to a nearby car. After helping Karl, Bonacelli went to the driver's side, got in and keyed the ignition. The engine sprang to life and Bonacelli put the car into get and slowly drove out of the city.

They had ridden in silence for a couple of miles before Karl inquired about the fight Bonacelli was having with the man in the alley.

"That was Maria's papa. We had met a few years ago and have been seeing each other on and off since then. Now that the war is over, I thought I would woo her in earnest." Bonacelli shrugged. "He thinks little of me because I am working with the American military. But Maria loves me and together we will get him to see reason."

"So you're living in Sanremo?" Karl inquired.

"No, right now I am living in Finale Ligure. It's on the coast about a fifty miles east of here. The Americans are setting up a telecommunications site on a nearby hilltop. I am the liaison for the civilian workers." he replied while reaching down and turning on the car's heater.

"That can be quiet a profitable job."

Smiling broadly at Karl, Bonacelli replied, "You better believe it is." Pausing for a moment, Bonacelli continued. "And what of you Karl, how did you end up in Genova?"

"When the camp was liberated, I was sent to an intermit camp. From there I got sent to France to demine a beach. I watched two friends die, escaped and now I sit in the car with you, Nicola."

The smile faded from Bonacelli's face. "And your injury?" he said.

"Landmine." Karl said distractedly.

"I am sorry." Bonacelli said.

Karl shrugged as if it was unimportant. "It doesn't matter. I will go home and marry my girl, get my sister and live happily ever after. So in the end it will be worth it."

Bonacelli turned to Karl and with a serious look, he said. "There are very few happily ever afters."

"We will be the exception." Karl said with a conviction he did not feel.

They continued their journey in silence. Each lost in their own thoughts. Soon they could see the lights of the city. Karl remained quiet and subdued. As they entered the city he was awe struck by the beauty of the buildings. He also found he was deeply saddened and appalled by the damage done to such works of art. _What a waste and for what, some mad man's dream? _

Quietly Bonacelli pulled over to the side of the road and parked. It was shortly after dawn and there were only a few people out and about. When Bonacelli opened the driver's door and stepped out, Karl became concerned.

"Nicola, we are not at the rail yard." Karl said with alarm.

"Calm yourself Karl. I need to do something before we get there." Bonacelli smiled. "Sit here until I get back."

Karl had not choice but to sit and wait. He expected for the authorities to drag him out of the car any minute and arrest him. He felt too exposed sitting on the side of the road. As he watched out the car window, the street and sidewalks slowly became more crowded. With each passing moment his apprehension grew. The small space in the car seemed to close in on him. He could feel his heart racing, his pulse pounding in his ears. Karl broke out into a sweat. He fought the overwhelming desire to jump out of the car and run away. Intellectually he knew none of the people passing him by were giving him a second glance but he could not help the feeling that everyone was watching him.

It was now noon and still Bonacelli had not returned. Karl reached into his bag and pulled out a small wedge of cheese and began to nipple it. He tried to reason out the best course of action. To sit here waiting or to make a run for it and find the rail station on his own. He sat there frozen with fear and indecision. Finally as darkness descended, he decided to go. He had just placed his hand on the door handle, when the driver's side door opened. He jumped and gave his own rendition of a scared school girl.

Bonacelli stuck his head in the door and smiled at Karl. Laughing he got into the car. "Thanks for waiting. I wasn't sure you would."

Karl looked at him stupidly and with his mouth agape. "I got to pee."

Bonacellli laughed and pointed to a nearby alley. "I'll wait for you."

When he finished, Karl limped back into the car.

"Your leg seems to be worse." noted Bonacelli.

"That's because I have been sitting in the car all day." Karl lied. "What happened to you?"

Bonacelli shrugged and said, "I told you I had things to do."

Pulling into traffic, they headed to the railway yard. Passing a train schedule to Karl, Bonacelli said, "There is a train leaving for Heidleberg in two hours. That is the closest the train can get you Hamelburg. Most of the tracks in Germany are in poor shape because of all the bombing. The trip is expected to take at least a week."

"I don't care," Karl said. "Just so I get home."

The car pulled into the parking lot in front of the station. Karl went to get out and Bonacelli grabbed his arm. Raising a finger Bonacelli said, "Don't be so eager Karl. There is a reason it took me so long."

Pulling an envelope from his coat pocket, Bonacelli handed it to Karl. Opening the envelope he found forged identity papers stating he was a Swiss national. Also in the envelope was Italian, Swiss and German money. Confused and overwhelmed he looked at Bonacelli. "I cannot accept such a gracious gift, Nicola." Karl stammered.

"Think of it as my thank you for your assistance during the war." Bonacelli said smiling.

"How can I ever thank you?"

"Easy," Bonacelli said, "When you and your girl get together, name your first bambino (5) after me."

Karl embraced the man, "I will Nicola. I promise."

Patting Karl on the back Bonacelli said, "Come you have a train to catch."

Later standing on the platform, Bonacelli waved good bye as Karl's train pulled out of the station. He thought about this morning's long distance phone call and its resulting conversation. He told himself he had to have faith that everything was going to work out for Karl. When he could no longer see the train Bonacelli murmured, "He's yours now Colonnello (6) Hogan. Take good care of him."

Authors Notes:

_1 corporal in Italian_

_2 The Pizza Parlor_

_3 Major in the Italian army_

_4 The Return of Major Bonacelli_

_5 baby_

_6 colonel_


	9. Mannhiem

**Mannheim**

_Karl has a long boring train ride ahead of him so we will just head northward and find out what our favorite English imp has been up to._

_At first this chapter will not seem to fit in with the rest of the story. Patience dear reader, in a chapter or two you will be able to see the connection (I hope.)_

_Cor_, Newkirk thought, _but it's a cold night tonight. At least I have a nice warm hotel room to go back to later. _He thought back to last year this time and how he was cold all the time. There never seemed to be enough clothes or enough wood to keep warm. He often missed his friends but never those barracks; cold as a witches' tit in the winter and as hot as Lucifer's breath in the summer. Newkirk rubbed his hands together and blew in them while stamping his feet in an effort to stay warm. Standing outside a seedy night club called 'Der Lobenswert Ratte' during an ice storm while waiting for his contact was not how Newkirk had envisioned his evening.

Only this afternoon he had met a nice little morsel, named Agatha, who was very taken by his overwhelming charm. Instead of a nice cozy evening with her, Newkirk was stuck hiding in a darken doorway waiting for his informant. Hearing foot steps coming from the dark alley nearby, Newkirk pressed his self against the locked door in an attempt to blend in with the shadows. The footsteps paused momentarily before the figure stepped out of the alley and into the soft glow of a nearby streetlight.

Newkirk exhaled with relief upon seeing who his contact was. Stepping out of the darken doorway, he walked passed the man and stopped at the other side of the lamp. Pretending to step in something nasty, he acted as if he had stopped to scrape it off on edge of the curb.

The man stepped quietly back into the dark alley. Newkirk paused for a moment to make sure they were not being observed before he also disappeared into the alley. Both men walked silently as they rounded a corner, which obscured them from anyone watching from the road. Newkirk took a position on one wall in order to watch for anyone approaching from the street. The man took the opposite wall to observe any approach from the other direction. Newkirk finally spoke to his informant.

"Danzig, couldn't you find a better place to meet? Even I have my standards." Newkirk grumbled.

A soft rumble of amusement came from the man as he lit a cigarette and looked briefly towards the Englishman. "I have to be careful Peter; I think I am being watched."

"The same blokes from Worms?" asked Newkirk with some concern.

"I think so. I am almost sure they are the ones behind the car bomb in Nehou (1)." Danzig said while studying the alley. "Currently Patton is the acting Military Governor after Eisenhower stepped down to become Chief of Staff this November. Patton has made a lot of enemies, here and at home. Those enemies may not have his best interests at heart."

"Well he is a fellow who likes to speak his mind. He has been very vocal about his displeasure regarding the Allies treatment of the German military and his hate for communism is well known." Newkirk said thinking out loud. "Of course we maybe off base because I heard Patton was thinking of retiring soon."

"Maybe but my gut tells me otherwise. This cell wants to cause confusion and disorder to further their political agenda." Danzig replied as he stuffed his cold hands into his jacket.

"Do you know where I can find them?" Newkirk asked.

"Here in town but not sure where. There is a lot of unhappiness and fear here for them to exploit. It's hard to be rational when your children are hungry and you have no job. People need someone or something to blame. Thing are getting too hot for me. I've got a hideaway in Heidelberg where I can hide out for a while. Look me up if, excuse me, when you get yourself into trouble." said Danzig as he melted back into the shadows.

"Righty-o Oskar, you be careful mate." Newkirk said without taking is eyes off the street.

"You too my friend." came the distant reply.

Newkirk waited a few minutes and ground out his cigarette before heading out of the alley. He had walked two blocks before he realized he was being followed. He slowed his paced and listened carefully. _Two men_, he thought, _about a half a block behind me_. Without picking up his pace or acknowledging he was aware of his tail, Newkirk turned on to a busier street. Every once in a while he would pause to look in a shop window and carefully look about to see who was on the street. At the third stop he was able to identify one man, middle aged in a dark overcoat two stores down. The second man was wearing a fur hat, overcoat and glasses a little further down, next to a lamp post.

Newkirk resumed his leisurely pace and considered his options. He could attempt to loose them or confront them in an effort to gain information. He decided to do both. Stopping in front of a peep show designed for the Allied military personnel, Newkirk assessed his pursuers. He targeted the older man as being the easier of the two to manage. Causally he turned from the door to the show with a bored look on his face. He walked to the end of the corner and stopped. Suddenly he bolted to the right and ran as fast as he could. He could hear the sound of shoe leather pounding behind him.

To an observer, it appeared that Newkirk was running blindly. That observer would be dead wrong. In Newkirk's misspent youth there were occasions when he had to run from the local flatfoots. Now he put that experience to good use. By making seemingly random turns, he kept those in pursuit guessing as to where he was going. Newkirk was not averse to running out into traffic causing a chorus of screeching tire, honking horns and creative cursing. When he was sure they were getting tired, he decided it was time to separate them.

He ran into an alley he knew well. As he ran past a refuse pile, he grabbed a broken two by four he saw laying there. Seeing a lighted doorway, he checked to see if it was locked. Newkirk smiled when the door opened with out any trouble. Carefully, he left the door barely cracked. The he quickly ducked behind a huge rubbish bind that was in a particularly dark part of the alley. There he waited there while he attempted to control his heavy breathing.

Newkirk heard them enter the alley. Both had stopped running and were being careful. While one man checked one side of the alley, while the other inspected the other side. By the sounds they were making, Newkirk knew they were checking all possible concealment places. It wasn't long before one of the men discovered the open door. Newkirk could hear the subdued conversation that followed the discovery.

As Newkirk had hoped, one man went inside to investigate and the other man remained in the alley. Carefully easing himself around the bin and staying within the shadows, Newkirk crept closer to the man. With a lunge, Newkirk launched himself at the man with the two by four swinging. The man didn't have time to cry out before the board connected with the side of his head. He went down without a sound.

Quietly Newkirk dragged the man to behind the rubbish bin where he had been hiding. Peeling off one of his gloves, he stuffed it into the man's mouth. Using his belt, he secured the man's hands to his feet. Pushing his unconscious body behind the trash cans, Newkirk was sure that it would be a while before the man was discovered.

Next he took the man's place, next to the door. With board in hand he patiently waited for the other man's return. Ten minutes later Newkirk's patience was rewarded. The middle aged man came hurrying out of the building only to discover Newkirk in place of his partner. The last thing he saw was Newkirk's smiling face before the lights went out.

HHHHHH

The man woke several hours later to find he was tied to a chair in a darkened room. He attempted to cry out but the gag muffled his voice. He struggled for several minutes before exhausting his self. Panting from the exertion, he let his head drop to his chest.

"Now that's a good fellow." said a British voice from somewhere in the darkness.

The man was startled by the voice. Straining to remember it, he realized it was Peter Newkirk's and he must now be the man's prisoner. Once again he attempted to break free of his bonds but was unable to do so. Settling in the chair, the man strained to hear any noises that might give him a clue as to where he was. The only thing he could hear was they sound of his heartbeat in his ears. He waited for Newkirk to speak again but was met only with silence.

Time dragged by as he sat there. His head hurt. Soon his arms began to cry out in protest from the odd angle they were tied, still not a sound was to be heard. He knew Newkirk was somewhere in the room. He was ready for the pain of torture. What he couldn't understand is what the Englishman was waiting for. The silence began to grade on his nerves. Soon it out weighted the pain from his head and arms. He wanted to scream and the Englander to start the torture. Instead he was forced to sit there in the dark and wait. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he tried to prepare himself for the first blow.

A match flared to life in a far corner of the room. The man looked at it as it briefly lit Newkirk's face. After lighting his cigarette, the flame went out leaving the red glow of the tip of the cigarette. He watched its sedate movements. As he watched it would glow brightly when Newkirk inhaled and dimmed as he exhaled. Still no sound was heard. He thought about what Newkirk had planned to do with the cigarette and tried to shift in the chair. After a few minutes, the glow from the cigarette dimmed and was extinguished.

The man thought his heart was about to crack his rib cage when he heard the soft steps of his enemy coming towards him. The gag was jerked from his face and he felt the sharp cold metal of a knife at his throat. Slowly it pressed into the skin of his neck until he could feel a tinkle of blood run down his neck.

Newkirk whispered softly in his ear, "Now be a good fellow and try not to scream as I carve you up. It'll wake the neighbors."

"Please, don't." he gasped.

"What have you to trade for your stinking good for nothing life?" came a soft reply.

"What do you want? I'll tell you anything, just don't…" he whined.

"Let's start with your name." Newkirk said adding a slight pressure to the knife. The man thougth Newkirk could smell the fear and desperation reeking from his pores.

"Michail Matysh." he said shuttering with fear.

"Well Mikey, I'm Peter but you already knew that, didn't you? Now you are going to tell me why you and your friend were following me." Newkirk whispered menacingly.

"My superiors are concerned you know too much about our plans."

"And what plans would that be?" he said.

Matysh hesitated and so Newkirk dug the knife deeper into his throat.

"Stop!" Matysh pleaded. "There is a plan to assassinate Patton using one of his close confidantes."

"Tell me more." Newkirk purred.

"I don't know the man's name, I swear but I do know they plan to do it sometime tomorrow when he is in Mannheim."

"Where?" Newkirk demanded.

"On a country road somewhere between Mannheim and Heidelberg, near Neckarstadt I think."

"Why?" Newkirk prompted.

"If he is successful in lifting the Morgenthau Plan then we will not have the influence to push our own political agenda."

"But I hear he is ready to retire." Newkirk said.

"Yes he is but he will still have enough influence to be successful. I swear I don't know anything else." Matysh whimpered.

"Oh I believe you." Newkirk said as he left the room, locking the door behind him.

HHHHH

"Here is the address where you can find the second one Jakob." Newkirk said passing a piece of paper to the old man. "Make sure he is locked up tight until we get the situation under control."

The old man smiled at the younger man. Even during his days in the underground, Jakob Banner remembered Newkirk as being something of a worry wart. "Do not worry Peter, we know what to do."

"Of course you do mate. I'm just half out of my mind with worry. It's turning me into an old woman." Newkirk said while shaking his head.

Jakob patted Newkirk on the back in an encouraging manner. "When this is over, you and I will get sloppy drunk together." the old man laughed.

"I am going to need a car Jakob. It's almost daylight and I'm not sure when this is supposed to go down." Newkirk said with a worried frown.

"All taken care of," Jakob said as he handed a set of keys to Newkirk. "I can have my son go with you. You might need the assistance once things start to happen."

"Thanks for the offer but I think I have to do this one solo." Newkirk said as he shook Jakob's hand good bye.

After checking his pistol and concealing two knives on his person, Newkirk hurried from the small apartment and into the street. Getting into the car, he started the engine. Without even taking time to check his rearview mirrors, Newkirk pulled out into traffic and drove south like a mad man. His only thought was if he was going to be able to get there to stop the assassination in time.

_1 Patton's Headquarters was at Nehou._

_There are many theories out there which have Patton being murdered for various reasons. While I do not prescribe to those theories, I thought it would be fun to make it a part of the story._


	10. Patton

**PATTON**

Newkirk raced south out of Mannheim and into its suburbs. Not sure how the assassination was supposed to happen or where, Newkirk racked his brain trying to figure out the best place for the hit to take place. He had not felt so helpless since the time the Nazis had devised a scheme to kill Churchill. (1) He thought about where would be the best place to do this bit of dirty work. It would have to be some place where Patton's would be killer could expect to escape without notice. He knew it was to happen somewhere near Neckarstadt but where? Thinking about the terrain of the area, Newkirk remembered there was a supply base there. A sniper in a military uniform could blend in with the rest of the unit's personnel. There were also rail road tracks in the area which would cause vehicles to have to slow down in order to safely cross them.

Hoping his calculations were correct, Newkirk sped to the site he thought was the most likely place for the ambush. Turning onto a side road, Newkirk pulled over and parked the car about a half a mile from the intersection. Crossing into the nearby woods, he quietly moved through the woods looking for his prey.

Unable to find anything, Newkirk hunkered down and looked at his watch. It was 1115 hours. Frustrated and unsure if his assumptions were correct, he thought about what to do next. He was about to get up and make his way back to the car when he heard a twig snap about thirty feet way at his two o'clock. Looking in that direction he saw a man in an US Army Officer's Class A uniform walking from the road leading to the supply depot into the woods. Taking a position near the road the man appeared to be waiting for something. Newkirk circled as quietly as possible trying to get closer to the man. When he was about twenty feet from the man, Newkirk heard a car coming up the road. He watched as the man drew his pistol and aimed it at the approaching car.

Knowing he could not wait any longer, Newkirk raced towards the man. Startled, the man swung around and pointed the pistol at Newkirk. Before the man could fire, Newkirk was on the man, knocking him to the ground. The gun discharged and the bullet lodged itself somewhere in a nearby tree. Newkirk was able to quickly knock the man out and then went about securing his hands and feet.

Standing up to call for assistance, Newkirk was surprised to see that the gun discharging had startled Technical Sergeant Robert L. Thompson (2), who had been exiting the depot driving a duce and a half (3). This caused Thompson not to see the approaching Model 75 Cadillac (4) as he started to turn left onto the country road. The car which was being driven by Private First Class Horace L Woodring was struck on the right side by the truck cause minor damage to both vehicles. In the back seat of the staff car were Major General Hobart R. Gay (5) and Lieutenant General George Patton. Everyone but Patton had exited their vehicles to inspect the damage. Relieved no one appeared injured Newkirk turned his attention back to the man lying unconscious at his feet. He had just started to pick the man up when he heard a cry from the road. Looking up he saw everyone at the right side of the car, where Patton was seated in the back seat. General Gay started screaming for a doctor and an ambulance.

Newkirk dragged the man to the road and turned him over to the MPs who had responded to General Gay's cries for help. Newkirk grabbed a MP and explained what had happened. After releasing the would-be assailant over to the police, Newkirk turned to see what was happening in the staff car.

Patton's face was bloody and he was leaning back in the seat having trouble breathing. There was a partition between the front and back seat and there was blood on it.

"_Relax Gentlemen; I'm in no condition to be a terror now_." Newkirk heard Patton say in an attempt to put his men at ease.

In the distance Newkirk could hear the wail of the ambulance. He felt overwhelmed watching the horrible scene. Between trying to answer the MP's questions and trying to over hear what was happening with Patton, Newkirk's head was spinning. Even though his own government had sent him on this mission, he felt as if he had let Hogan down.

As they loaded Patton into the ambulance, Newkirk overheard the medics saying they were taking him to the 130th Station Hospital in Heidelberg. He finished answering questions as quickly as he dared and giving the MP's numbers where he and his commanding officer could be reached, he raced back to the car and drove to the hospital.

Getting on the base had been easy as Newkirk had the paperwork giving him clearance to be there. Pulling into the parking lot, he parked the car and looked at the building though the windshield. Until recently, it had been the barracks and stables for the Wehrmaht's Cavalry School. (6) The ground floor and basements had been stables with the upper floors housing the cadets. The U S Army had taken it over and converted it into a hospital. Everyone knew the Patton's love of horses so to die in this place seemed somehow appropriate. Newkirk wasn't sure how he knew Patton was going to die, he just did. With a great sense of sadness and loss he exited the car and walked into the hospital.

Inside was a scene of chaos. Newkirk felt he had been transported into an asylum where the patients had been given free reign over the place. He sat in the lobby trying to get information on Patton's condition. After several hours he was about to give up and leave when a cup of coffee was thrust into his face. Looking up he saw the smiling face of an army nurse.

"Captain!" he yelled as he jumped to his feet in surprise almost spilling the coffee on her crisp white uniform.

"Hello Newkirk," Versie said. "What brings you to this part of the world? I would have thought you would be home taking care of your sister and chasing pretty girls."

"Still doing my bit for King and Country." Newkirk said taking the coffee cup from her.

"Waiting to hear about Patton?" she inquired. He nodded and she continued, "I've just gotten off my shift. If you walk me back to my apartment in Heidelberg, I'll tell you what I know."

"I'll do you one better than that and I'll drive you." Newkirk offered.

Signing out she walked with Newkirk to the car. As they drove out the front gate, Newkirk inquired about Patton's condition.

"During the accident, he fell forward onto the metal portion of the partition in the car resulting in him breaking his nose, causing a laceration in his scalp and breaking two of his vertebrate in his neck. His scalp has been stitched and he has been placed in a halo." Versie said with a soft sad sigh.

"A halo?" Newkirk asked puzzled.

"It is a device that is placed over the head with the bottom resting on the shoulders and the top screwed into the scalp to keep the head immobile."

Newkirk grimaced. "Sounds painful and uncomfortable."

"Correct on both counts." Versie said while looking at the passing scenery.

"Prognosis?"

"Not good I'm afraid. If he survives he will be a quadriplegic." she replied.

"You sound as if you don't think he will make it." Newkirk said alarmed.

"He is having trouble breathing and I am afraid the neural pathway which controls the vital systems has been compromised. They have sent for a neurosurgeon but I think it will not change anything." she said with a catch in her voice.

Pulling up in front of her apartment building, Newkirk said, "I need to call the Guv'nor and let him know what is happening."

Looking at Newkirk's pale and drawn face Versie reached over and touched his arm. "You look like you could use a cuppa, perhaps with some brandy in it. I don't have any liquor but I do have a soft shoulder you can lean on."

"No thank you, maybe some other time." Newkirk said with a poor attempt at a smile.

"I'm not taking no for an answer. Don't make me make a scene." she said in a stern voice. "You know I can."

Throwing up his hands and chuckling Newkirk responded, "I surrender. I'll go up with you."

Neither spoke as they walked up to the third floor of the apartment building. Letting them inside her studio apartment, she went straight to the stove to put on a kettle of water. Newkirk sat down at the kitchen table and looked about the room. There was a grossly small kitchen, the table he sat at with two chairs, a bed, dresser, night stand and a battered couch. A bare austere room Newkirk thought, not at all like the lively woman he had come to know.

Sitting down across the table from him Versie smiled. "Now tell me what concerns you Newkirk."

Leaning forward to rest his arms on the table Newkirk began to confide in Versie. "I feel like all of this is my fault. I was given a mission and this is the result. I've mucked thing up pretty bad."

"I doubt anyone, especially Hogan, would feel that way Newkirk. You shouldn't beat yourself up over it." She said while patting his hand in sympathy. "Not everything goes they way we want it to, no matter how hard we try."

She took off her nurse's cap and went to the stove to prepare the tea. Returning to the table with the tea, she placed it in front of Newkirk and sat down in her chair.

Taking a sip, Newkirk said, "Enough of my problems how are things with you? Heard any word about Langenscheidt?"

Slowly shaking her head she responded, "No and I am beginning to fear the worst. With so many of the people, both soldiers and civilians are being sent east to work in labor camps for the Russians, I fear he maybe among them and I will never see him again."

"The Guv'nor hasn't been able to find out any information?" Newkirk said taking her hand into his.

"If he has, he hasn't shared it. I dread of being transferred out of Europe and losing him forever." She paused to put her emotions in check. "I try not to think about it. Most of the time I am successful, working at the hospital and trying to care for Schultz and his family occupy most of my time."

Leaning forward in alarm Newkirk said, "Something's wrong with Schultz?"

Versie gave a small shrug. "Nothing that isn't happening all over Germany, his toy factory has been dismantled and the machinery has been shipped to France. (7) He can't get permission to reopen it even if he can prove he wasn't a Nazi."

"That's outrageous!" Newkirk exclaimed.

"That is the reality many Germans face now. Now strangers live in Schultz's family home and Schultz and his family is squatting with two other families in their burned out factory in Mannheim. (8) They have to work all day clearing debris in Mannheim just to have a ration card. They are limited to a diet of 1,000 calories a day while we are instructed to burn any leftover food to keep it from the Germans." A small sob escaped her lips. "Do you know what it does to me to see starving children and not be allowed to give them anything or risk being arrested? I have to be so careful trying to help Schultz because of the non fraternization laws." She laughed a sour laugh. "Yet I watch our soldiers use their ability to get food as a tool to get women to prostitute themselves in order to feed their children."

Squeezing her hand, Newkirk tried to comfort her. "Now it can't be that bad."

"It's worse Newkirk. It is illegal to for a soldier recognize any child sired by an American solider, even if he wants to do the right thing. I can't even speak of the fate of many of the children fathered by a Negro solider, sometimes at the hands of its on mother."

Getting up to get Newkirk more tea and a tin of cookies, she continued, " With so many women being accosted and raped, I am required to wear my uniform when I am not in my apartment just to be able to go shopping."

"I'm sorry. I've been so busy scuttling around that I haven't really had the time to look around and see what is going on around me." Newkirk said apologetically.

She shook her head and patting his hand. "You have been doing your duty. There is no fault in that."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Newkirk asked.

"Just continue to be a friend, Newkirk.' Versie said smiling at him.

"Well if we are friends, then it's Peter." he said lending over the table to give her a quick chase kiss on the cheek.

Giving him a broad smile she said, "In that case you better start calling me Versie."

"Anybody heard anything about the Kommandant?" Newkirk asked trying to change the subject and lighten the mood.

"Yes, he is living in a small apartment on Kaiserstrasse. Hogan was able to help him secure a minor governmental job working with the rationing. I see him when I can but again I have to be careful."

"You're trying to do too much Versie. You can't help everybody." Newkirk said.

"It keeps me occupied Peter and that is what I need right now." She said smiling at him. "Besides idle hands is the devil's workshop."

Newkirk shook his head and laughed as he drank his tea. "I can see my stay in the area is going to be interesting."

"Hmmm.." Versie said sipping her tea. "Why do I have the feeling before this little adventure of yours is over, I will be patching you up?"

Raising his cup in a salute Newkirk replied, "Just like old times, eh?"

Smiling she raised her cup to return the salute, "Just like old times."

_1 A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to London_

_2 With the exception of the assassin and Newkirk, the accident happened as described. The people mentioned are the actual people involved in the incident. The accident occurred on December 9, 1945 at approximately 1145 hours. Patton died on December 21, 1945 of a pulmonary embolism. _

_3 A duce and a half is a two and a half ton truck. _

_4 This car looks similar to the black staff cars used on the show. _

_5 Patton's Chief of Staff_

_6 On March 29, 1945 the Wehrmacht left Heidelberg. On March 30, 1945 the 3__rd__ Infantry, 7__th__ Army entered the city. The civilian population surrendered without resistance. _

_7 The dismantling of factories and sending the machinery to Allied countries, forced labor of captured soldiers and civilians, free coal deliveries, the program of taking skilled scientists and technicians from German soil and the British and American thief of intellectual properties totaling 10 billion dollars (or 100 billion in today's economy) were part of the reparations required of Germany after the war._

_8 After the war twenty percent of housing in Germany was destroyed. German lost approximately one fourth of her pre war land to the Allies. The Soviets and French forced the German population from its newly acquired lands. Both the British and the United States deported numerous unwanted citizens of German heritage back to Germany. Many Germans lost their homes to those surviving populations that the Nazis had victimized. Then there were the Germans who were fleeing Soviet occupied Germany. At this time, the housing situation in Germany was at a critical stage._

_JCS 1067 which governed U S policy in Germany from April 1945 until July 1947, stated no help was to be given to the Germans in rebuilding their nation except for the minimum required to mitigate mass starvation. During the winter of 1946 and 1947 the death rates for children and the elderly skyrocketed due to the living conditions and lack of an adequate diet._


	11. Schultz

**Schultz**

Newkirk felt better after talking with Versie but still felt a moral obligation to bring to justice the men responsible for Patton's accident. As he drove back to Mannheim, he thought about Schultz and his family. He felt sick that such a fate had befallen such a kind and gentle man. Schultz had been a Social Democrat until the party was outlawed in 1933 by the Nazis. It had stood firm against the Nazis and had been the only party to vote against the Enabling Act. (1) The only reason he had reenlisted into the army was because the Nazis had requisitioned his toy factory in order to produce war materials. Without a way to support his family, Schultz had been forced by necessity to re-enter the Luftwaffe. Newkirk thought about what it must have been like for Schultz before the war. Though the big man had never complained, it couldn't have been easy for him. Heidelberg had very strong ties with the Nazi party. What Schultz witnessed during those years leading up to the war was any man's guess.

Driving into the city, Newkirk looked around with newly opened eyes. Unlike Heidelberg, Mannheim had been an industrial center. Large sections of the city had been practically leveled with the almost non stop allied bombing that had taken place. Skeletons of building lay in ruins with their boney fingers pointing skyward. They stood as silent ghosts, stripped of their former glory. Many of the streets were impassable due to the debris. Pulling the car over to the side of the road, he watched hollowed eyed men, women and children clearing some of the rumble. (2) Getting out he approached an old frail looking man. Asking about the whereabouts of the Schatzi Toy Factory, the old man told him it was near Friedrichplatz and Elisabethstrasse. Leaving his car, Newkirk walked the six blocks to where the factory was located.

As he walked he felt as if he was walking in a graveyard. He couldn't even hear a bird chirping. The only sound to be heard was the scrunching of gravel beneath his feet. A frigid wind whistled down the street causing Newkirk to bury himself deeper into this overcoat. As the strong wind stung his face, the grey clouds above his head announced the coming snow. The only movement he saw was trash blowing silently down the street. Several times he had to climb over the remains of the broken buildings which had fallen into the street. Without any signs to mark the way, it was difficult for Newkirk to pick out which of the ruins housed his friend.

Finally he came to a three story building with most of the windows broken out. Out two of the chimneys he saw smoke. Picking up his pace, he almost fell over a large chunk of concrete when he saw a half burnt sign announcing this was the location of the Schatzi Toy Factory. Opening the door to the factory, Newkirk wasn't sure that to expect. He immediately noticed it was just as cold inside as it was outside. Stomping his feet and shoving his hands into his pockets in an effort to get warm, Newkirk called out for the prison guard.

"Schultz! Schultz it's me your friend Peter Newkirk. Are you here?" He shouted only to have it echo back to him. A moment later a door opened on the far side of the room and a head tentatively poked out. Upon seeing Newkirk, it broke into a large grin and quickly the rest of its body followed it out the door.

"Newkirk! "Was ist los? Du siehst so nachdenklich aus. Hast du wieder Schwierigkeiten?" (3) Schultz said laughingly as he approached Newkirk. Newkirk noticed the large man wasn't so large now. He looked so much older and thinner than Newkirk remembered. Deep lines were etched into the jolly face giving Schultz a worn tired expression.

"Ah Schultzie, you could always see right through me." Newkirk jokingly returned as he hugged his old barracks guard. "It's so good to see you again."

"It is good to see you too Newkirk." Schultz said pulling Newkirk to towards the door he had come from. "Come inside where you will be warmer."

Newkirk walked through the door and into a long hallway. Walking halfway down the hallway, Schultz opened a door to a large room. Inside the room was a large fireplace which housed a roaring fire. There were various pallets lining one wall and near the fire place were two comfortable looking chairs. A small bookcase held a few food stuffs and on a small table were neatly stacked some dishes and cooking utensils. Otherwise the room was bare. Sitting in the two chairs, wrapped in blankets, was an elderly couple who looked at least a hundred.

Noticing Newkirk's stare, Schultz said, "That is Uncle Otto and Aunt Fritzy. They lost their home too. We give them the chairs because the cold is not kind to their joints. Sitting on the floor is too painful. If you want to sit in a chair, I can ask them to get up."

"Don't you dare Schultz; I can sit on the floor like everyone else." Newkirk replied.

Walking over to the fireplace Newkirk saw several heavy quilts had been spread on the floor in front of the fireplace. The entire family was there dressed in heavy coats. Newkirk realized it was only marginally warmer in the room than it was outside. Schultz quickly stepped forward and started to introduce his family.

"You have already met my aunt and uncle and I think you remember my wife Gretchen."

"Hello," the middle aged woman replied. "Hogan isn't it?"

"No Gnadigefrau, (4) my name is Peter Newkirk. Hogan was my commanding officer."

"Ah, I am sorry then I do not remember you." Frau Schultz replied.

"That's alright ma'am. I don't think we were ever formally introduced." Newkirk said while bending over to kiss her hand.

Newkirk could see the relief passing across her face that she had not offended one of her husband's friends.

Turning to the children sitting nearby Schultz said, "These are my Kinder, Georg Hans who is 15, Agathe who is 14, Aloisa and Leopold who are 10 and Rebekka who is 7.

A chorus of hellos and smiles followed the introductions. Newkirk noticed a small thin little scrap of a boy sitting lone, not willing to meet Newkirk's eye. Newkirk gave Schultz a quizzical look. Speaking in a lower tone Schultz said, "That is my baby sister Petra's little boy, Wolfgang. You remember me mentioning him to you, don't you?"

"Of course Schultz, I remember little Wolfie." Newkirk said. "Does he live here too or is he just visiting?"

"He lives here with us." Schultz whispered. "He lost his parents and sister during the last days of the war; an air raid. It took them all day to dig him out of the rumble. He hasn't spoken since then."

"I am so sorry Schultz." Newkirk said.

Schultz shrugged sadly, "At least I have most of my family. I know people who lost everyone dear to them. I have no right to complain."

Schultz pulled Newkirk down onto the quilts while telling the children to move over and let Newkirk near the fire.

"Oh no Schultzie, I've got a warm coat on. Let the children stay near the fire." Newkirk said while sitting near the edge of the blanket.

"You will stay for dinner Herr Newkirk?" Frau Schultz asked.

Remembering their bare pantry Newkirk was about to decline but looking into Frau Schultz's expectant face he knew to decline would cause her shame. "I would be honored to eat with you." he replied.

"Good," the older woman said as she got up to start to prepare dinner.

"Are all of you ok Schultz?" Newkirk asked.

"Ja, we are good Newkirk. It is a struggle sometimes but we are together and that is what is important."

"Maybe I can pull some strings and get you some decent housing." Newkirk offered.

"Nein," replied Schultz. "The little nurse offered the same thing but I had to tell her no too. Please do not be mad but this is something I must do on my own."

"I don't understand Schultz, why won't you let your friends help?"

"I do let my friends help. The little nurse brings food so the Kinder do not starve but the rest I must do on my own. It is my penance."

"I'm sorry but I still don't understand." said worried and confused Newkirk.

Schultz gave a small sigh and looking at Newkirk with tears in his eyes he said, "The night of the Kristallnacht (5) I could smell the smoke from the burning synagogues and hear the screams and breaking windows. I locked the doors and turned off the lights, all the time I was telling myself I was protecting my family. When Hitler came to power and third of the University of Heidelberg's professors were let go because they did not belong to the master race, I said nothing. When over two thousand Jews were removed from Heidelberg I told myself that they were being temporarily moved and as soon as things settled down they would be allowed to come back. In my heart I knew I was lying to myself but it was what I wanted to believe. I have seen the pictures and heard the stories. Now I must face that I was a coward and believed what I wanted to believe. I will make things better for my family but I am the one who must do it. Do you understand?"

"No Schultz but I respect you enough to abide by your decision. I think you are being hard on yourself. A lot of people did the same thing. You were not alone." Newkirk said placing a comforting hand on Schultz's broad shoulder.

"Just because others did it does not make it right." Schultz said hanging his head in shame.

It was dark before Newkirk left the Schultz home. Stumbling through the darkness he somehow found his way back to the car. He drove to the hotel were he was staying. Entering the room he locked the door and sat down on the bed not bothering to turn on a light. Somewhere in the back of his mind he noted how warm the room was. Sitting there alone in the dark, Newkirk gave into his grief and let the tears flow silently down his face. At some point the exhaustion of the day over took him and he fell back onto the bed sound asleep. There he remained until the sun was high in the sky again.

A small knock at the door instantly awaken Newkirk. Pulling the gun from its hidden place, he inquired as to who was knocking.

"Open up." Danzig's muffled voice came from the other side of the door.

Putting his gun away, Newkirk opened the door.

"You look like hell." Danzig said as he brushed past Newkirk.

"Long day yesterday," Newkirk mumbled wiping the sleep from his eyes.

"So I heard. Hurry and get ready. I've got you a lead on some high ranking members of the cell you've been investigating but we need to hurry. From what I hear they don't like to stay in one place too long."

"Right, give me a few minutes and I'll be ready." Newkirk said as he stepped into the bathroom.

"Hurry before I get too comfortable Peter. My hidey hole isn't anywhere nice as this. You know how to lead the good life." Danzig said laughingly.

"Bugger off or I'll have to give you a facer, Oskar." Newkirk grumbled from the bath.

"You're mighty touchy today," Danzig said.

"You don't know the half of it." Newkirk said as he turned on the shower and attempted to wash yesterday from his mind.

After shaving and dressing, Newkirk stepped out of the bathroom to see Danzig by the window looking out at the street. Acknowledging Newkirk's presence Danzig said, "I think we have company."

"I guess it's time to scarper." Newkirk said grabbing his belongings. "Good thing I travel light."

Both men quickly headed out the door without a backwards glance.

_1 The Enabling Act or more formally the Gesetz zur Behebung de Not von Voklk Reich (Law to Remedy the Distress of the People and the Reich) gave the Cabinet the authority to enact laws without the participation of the Reichstag (Parliament)._

_2 Germans between the ages of 14 and 60 were expected to work clearing debris from the bombed out buildings. Failure to comply could result in forfeiture of their ration cards._

_2 Newkirk! What's up? You look so pensive. Are you in trouble again?_

_3 Gracious lady, a term of respect_

_4 Kristallnacht (Night of the Broken Glass): On Novemeber 9-10, 1938 a series of attacks against the Jews throughout Germany and Austria took place. SA stormtroopers and civilians ransacked and burned Jewish homes, shops, synagogues, towns and villages resulting in ninety-one Jews being killed and thirty thousand Jewish men were taken to concentration camps where they were tortured for months. Over one thousand of these men died._


	12. Klink

**Klink**

Wilhelm Klink stood on the platform at the train station waiting for the afternoon train from Stuttgart. The icy wind blew down the tracks carrying with it the first few flakes of the coming snow storm. Klink turned his slim frame so his back was to the wind and used it to shield his companion from the chilling bite of winter. She stepped closer to him so she could take advantage of the warmth he provided. Placing his gloved hand on the small of her back, he drew her closer. He looked at his watch and then down at her. "The train should be here in a few minutes and then we can get out of the cold. Are you sure you don't want to wait inside where it is warm? I can wait here for Karl and then come inside and get you."

"Nein," she said smiling up at him, "I will wait here with you."

Klink smiled at her and felt an overwhelming desire to kiss her. He hesitated for a moment because of the public setting and the fact he had never kissed her before. He quickly decided to stop living in fear. Years of living under the oppression of the Nazi regime had Klink second guessing everything he did. Throwing caution to the wind he bent down slightly and kissed Gertrude. As he pulled away he was surprised and pleased when her hand reached up and touched his face. Gently she pulled him back to her and returned his gentle kiss with a passionate one of her own.

Forgetting the others on the platform, Klink looked down into her hazel eyes. He felt like a school boy, giddy with love's first blush. His face broke into a grin that was surely undignified for a man of his stature and age. Klink didn't care. She loved him. Klink was sure that if he was to look, he would find his feet were not touching the ground.

"Perhaps after we finish picking up your friend, we can go back to my apartment and get warm. I have a little coffee left." Gertrude said in a soft seductive voice while gently caressing his cheek.

"I find myself to be very warm right now." he replied, his eyes never leaving hers.

She removed her hand from his cheek and placed it over his heart. "Well if you don't wish to have coffee…" she said teasing him.

Klink felt like his blood was boiling. He thought his heart skipped a beat or two. "No my dear I love coffee, especially your coffee."

Klink pulled her closer to him. He knew that their behavior was not considered proper. There were probably several people on the platform that were aghast at such a public display. Klink didn't care. That was the old Klink. He had shed his former self like a drowning man sheds the heavy coat that is dragging him down to his doom. This was the new Klink. To hell with what other people may think. She made him deliriously happy and that is all he cared about.

He was glad he was wearing a heavy overcoat so she would not know what a profound effect she was having on him. He looked at her and seeing the mischievous twinkle in her eye he reconsidered. The little minx knew exactly what was up and was enjoying Klink's discomfort.

"My dear," he began as she grinned up at him. "We will safety deposit Karl with Versie and then I intend to teach you some Prussian close order drills."

Whatever was going to be her reply was lost when the train could be heard nearing the station. A screech of brakes sounded and the train slowed to a stop at the platform. Several people got off the train while others waited for the opportunity to board. Klink searched the crowd but could not find Karl. He stopped a porter who was getting ready to re-board to ask him about Karl. The porter stated he did not know of anyone by that name but would hold the train for a few minutes to ask the other porters.

After what seemed to Klink was an eternity, the porter returned with the news that no one remembered anyone named Karl Langenscheidt. Upset and confused, Klink walked Gertrude back to his car.

"Perhaps he came in on an earlier train and he is already with Versie." Gertrude reasoned.

"Yes that is it." Klink said in an attempt to calm his growing concern. "We'll stop by her apartment and check. If he is not there we won't say anything and I will call Hogan. If he is there we will make a quick exit and resume our plans."

"It will be alright Wilhelm." Gertrude said patting his chest.

"I hope so." Klink said distractedly as he opened the car door for her.

HHHHH

Klink fumbled with the keys to his apartment to the extent that Gertrude had to gently take them from him and open the door herself. Giving her an apologetic look, he quickly stepped into the foyer and picked up the telephone. His hands shook as he dialed the numbers.

Gertrude stood slightly behind him and rubbed his back with her hand in an attempt to quiet his nerves. He looked pale and she knew he was very concerned about his friend. Glancing at her, Klink took his free arm, placed it around her shoulders and drew her closer to him. As he waited for someone to answer, he smiled, leaned down and gave her a kiss on her forehead. She smiled back at him and rested her head on his shoulder.

A deep voice answered on the other end of the line and Klink requested to speak with General Robert Hogan regarding an urgent matter. Klink was told to wait and the line went silent. Moments later a familiar voice was heard.

"Wilhelm, it's good to hear from you. I trust you delivered that package without any trouble." Hogan cheerfully said.

"That's why I am calling Robert. Karl wasn't on the train. I asked around but there was no Karl Langenscheidt on board." Klink explained.

"Damn I forgot. I swear everyday I get closer and closer to being put in a home." Hogan swore at himself for his absent mindedness. "Bonacelli set him up with a fake passport. He is probably still traveling using a fake name. I'll get Kinch to drive to Mannheim and ask around. I'm sure his is just temporarily misplaced."

"You will keep me informed won't you Hogan?" Klink asked.

"You can count on it." Hogan replied.

"Thank you and good-bye Robert." Klink said as he hung up the phone.

Looking down at his guest, he smiled. "Let me take your hat and coat my dear." Placing the items in the closet along with his own coat, Klink drew her to the living room.

"Wait here." He said as he touched her lips with his finger. "I'll be right back."

Klink returned with a bottle of wine and two glasses.

Gertrude raised an eyebrow. "A little early in the day, don't you think?" she asked without any real rebuke.

"It goes well with the bubbles." He replied as he took her hand and began to lead her down the hall.

"Bubbles?" she asked as she willing let him lead her towards the bedroom.

"Yes, I am somewhat fond of bubble baths. Are you my dear?" he asked suggestively as they entered the bedroom.

"I have a feeling that I will soon be a great supporter of bubble baths." Gertrude said as she played with the buttons on his shirt.

"Ah, that's what I find so endearing about you Frau Linkmeyer, your grand sense of adventure." Kink responded as he shut the bedroom door.

Later that night Klink's telephone rang several times with neighbors concerned about the noise coming from his apartment. They all went unanswered.

HHHHH

It was two days before Christmas and a lone figure limped through the Karlstor. As he entered the Altstadt, he smiled at the irony of his entrance into Heidelberg. Karl had been taken off the train in Stuttgart and sent to the hospital where he was treated and then released. Remembering that he had gone home with Schultz a couple of times when they both had passes together, Karl headed to the Schultz's home. Following the Neckar River, Karl enjoyed the sense of being in familiar surroundings. He felt like a tourist as he silently gushed over his beautiful surroundings.

Taking his time and resting often, Karl felt himself relaxing. He smiled to himself at the thought his journey would soon be over. He had not realized until now how much he had missed his friend. Karl was distressed to see that three of the arches in the Old Bridge had been destroyed. Shaking his head at the mindless destruction Karl moved on.

Karl turned down the street where his friend lived. His whole body vibrated with excitement. Knocking on the door, Karl readied himself to throw his arms around Schultz. To his dismay Schultz did not answer the door, a dour man with foul breath did. Inquiring about his friend, the man cursed at Karl and then slammed the door in his face. After knocking on several neighbor's doors, Karl was able to learn the fate of his friend.

Karl walked to the Autobahn and hitched a ride to Mannheim. Feeling lost and alone again, Karl rode into the city in silence. Looking at the ruins of the great city, Karl thought to himself that the ruins seemed to be an outward reflection of how he felt inside.

HHHHHH

A knock at the door brought Schultz to his feet. It was late, he thought, who would come calling at this hour? When he opened the door, Schultz at first did not recognize who was standing before him. At first he thought it was one of the countless refugees that were flooding in from everywhere. The man standing in front of him was gaunt, his clothes hanging from his thin frame. His eyes were shadowed and had a haunted quality about them. The man's brown hair touched the bottom of his collar and he had a full beard. Schultz was about to send the man away when he looked at his eyes again. He remembered those blue eyes, not as sad and mournful but as being vibrate and happy. Schultz took in a deep breath as he realized he was looking at Karl.

Schultz grabbed his friend and pulled him into a bear like hug. He realized he had hugged his friend too tight when he heard the whoosh of Karl's breath leave his body. Even through his clothes, Schultz could feel every one of Karl's bones.

Pulling him inside, Schultz asked the children to move and give Karl some room on the quilt. Frau Schultz quickly got up and started to fix him something to eat, ignoring Karl's protests.

"Everyone has been looking for you. Where have you been?" Schultz asked.

"It's a long story Schultz and truthfully I am too tired to tell it. Do you mind if I curl up in a corner and sleep here tonight. I promise to leave first thing in the morning."

Schultz could see how exhausted Karl was. "You will stay as long as you need to. We will talk in the morning. Look Gretchen has heated some soup for you. Eat and then you rest."

Schultz could see Karl was struggling not to devour the soup as soon as the bowl was placed in his hands. Schultz was going to have his wife give Karl some more soup when he saw Karl was having trouble staying awake. Saving the bowl before it slipped through Karl's tired fingers, Schultz motioned for Georg Hans to make a place for Karl to sleep. Within moments Karl was fast asleep. Gretchen removed his boots and placed a quilt over him. She hummed a lullaby as she gently stroked his hair.

Giving her husband a silent sad look, she finally moved away from Karl and set about cleaning up. When she finished, Schultz held out his hand and she came and sat by his side. Placing his arm around his wife, they both sat there was watched the dancing flames in the fireplace. Everything was quiet but the crackling and popping of the fire. For the first time since the end of the war, Schultz felt truly blessed and grateful for what he had.

HHHHHH

Karl awoke to the chatter of happy children as they went about their morning chores. Karl sat up; a first confused by his surroundings but quickly got his bearings. After putting on his boots and putting away the bedding, Karl joined the morning routine. Being with children had always been a joy to Karl and being with Schultz's children was especially nice. Once the chores were completed, with the exception of Uncle Otto and Aunt Fritzy, they all got ready to go out and help with the clearing of the rubble. After putting in a full day's work, the family and Karl returned to the factory. The children went to play before it got too dark and the adults went inside to have some tea and relax.

"Hans, why do you not ask one of our friends for help? You cannot let the Kinder remain here, it is not safe." Karl said with concern.

Schultz attempted to explain his reasons to his friend and was surprised to see Karl become angry, not upset but really angry. Schultz had never seen Karl as anything but happy. He sputtered to an abrupt stop, unsure what to do next.

"You have the ability to be somewhere warm and safe and you chose to be here because you think you somehow failed your fellow man? You think you need redemption?" Karl said in a low monotone.

Taking a deep breath, Karl looked down at his clenched fists. He looked up at Schultz, his mouth a slash across his face. His eyes were not the gentle eyes Schultz was used to. They were fierce angry eyes.

"What do you think you can do that will ever make right what happened? How many lifetimes of sacrifice and pious living do you need to live? What makes you think that anything you do will ever even scratch the surface of making things right?" Karl asked his barely controlled rage present in his voice.

Schultz stammered as he tried to answer his friend. "I need to…"

"Need to what Hans? Punish your family for being human? For failing to live up to some standard you have set for yourself? Well surprise Hans, we mere mortals often fall short of the mark. You learn and you go on from there. You don't make the mistake again and you teach your children not to make those same mistakes."

Standing up, Karl began to pace the room. Finally coming to a stop him front of Schultz he continued. "You think you need to be punished but you don't. I have been punished enough for the both of us. What I have seen and what has been done to me, more than atone for any shortcoming you feel you have."

"But," Schultz said attempting to interrupt Karl because he could see the man's anger escalate.

Unless you want to spit on me and our friendship, you get off your ass and call someone and get your family out of here." Karl demanded, his face red, body shaking with rage and grief.

Schultz stood up to face his friend. Watching Karl's face crumble to reflect his misery, Schultz pulled his friend into an embrace. Karl put his arms around Schultz and clung to the larger man in order to remain standing. Schultz could feel Karl's grief and pain almost as if it was a tangible thing.

"I will do what you ask Karl. First thing in the morning, I promise."

_Karlstor or Karl's Gate is a triumphal arch in honor of Prince Elector Karl Theodor built in 1775-1781 and located on Heidelberg's east side._

_Altstadt or Old Town is the oldest part of Heidelberg and is very beautiful._

_The Old Bridge was built in 1786 and was originally part of the town wall. The Wehrmacht blew up the bridge when they retreated from the city on March 29, 1945._


	13. Heidelberg

**Heidelberg**

The snow had come down hard and covered the city with a glittering white velvet blanket. The air was crisp, the stars were so bright a person might be tempted to reach out and touch them. City lights twinkled in the night and local stores were trying to out do each other with their beautiful Christmas decorations. A soft chorus of Christmas music was coming from a nearby residence while last minute shoppers were hurrying home to be with their families. It was a post card scene that made Newkirk miss London and family even more than he already did.

Newkirk lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. The smoke filled his lungs helped to warm his chilled body. Jakob stood next to him and unlike the calm exterior that Newkirk had assumed, Jakob was nervous and kept glancing around him.

"Steady Jakob," Newkirk murmured, "You act like you expect someone to jump out at you from the dark."

"It is freezing cold Newkirk and frankly I'd rather be with my family tonight. After all it is Christmas Eve." Jakob grumbled. "When is Danzig going to get here? He is already a half an hour late."

Newkirk slowly exhaled the smoke in frustration. Jakob had been grumbling about one thing or another since they had gotten here over an hour ago. Newkirk certainly didn't need the distraction and Jakob's endless prattling was starting to work his last nerve.

"Why don't you go on home to your family Jakob? I can wait for Oskar myself. I'll meet up with you after the holidays. Go on with yourself now." Newkirk said encouragingly.

"Are you sure Newkirk? I can stay if you need me to." Jakob said as he looked back at his car.

"No, now go on and give your wife a Christmas kiss for me." Newkirk said.

Without further hesitation Jakob hurried to his car and left Newkirk standing on the street corner alone. _Hell of a way to spend Christmas_, Newkirk thought to him self. Last year he was surrounded by friends and this year he was all alone_. Guess the plus side is how much I save in gifts_, he mused.

Finishing his cigarette and lighting another he was about to call it quits. After all Oskar was probably with his family tonight. He would be a fool if he wasn't. Newkirk pushed himself away from the wall and turned to leave when he heard a voice next to him.

"Haven't I told you those things will be the death of you?"

Startled, he turned and raised his fist to ward off the expected assault. Instead he was greeted with Versie's smiling face.

"Blimey Versie I almost punched you in the face." Newkirk exclaimed.

"That would not be keeping with the Christmas spirit Peter." she laughed. "What are you doing out here all by yourself?"

"Just a bit of business but I guess it has been put on hold for the holidays." Newkirk said, disconcerted she had been able to walk up to him without his knowledge.

Locking her arm around his Versie said, "Come buy me a cup of coffee and tell me what you have been up to."

Versie steered him down the sidewalk to a nearby café. Sitting down in a booth away from the door and with his back to the wall, Newkirk ordered two coffees. They sat for a few minutes sipping their coffee and letting its heat warm them.

"And what brings you out on a night like tonight?" Newkirk said, breaking the silence.

Versie nodded towards the bags she had been carrying. "Just some last minute shopping. Do you want to see?" she asked with excitement.

At that moment she reminded Newkirk so much of his sister Mavis that a huge lump formed in his throat. Unable to answer, he simply nodded his head.

From one bag she pulled out a box and opened it. Inside was a pretty green hat with matching fur lined gloves. "This is for Gertrude." Seeing his confusion she added, "Frau Linkmeyer."

"Frau Linkmeyer is here in town?" Newkirk asked trying to cover his surprise.

"Yes and you should see the fantastic Christmas gift she has gotten Wilhelm. Not as great as what he has gotten her but close."

Newkirk's jaw dropped leaving his mouth agape. Versie leaned forward and gently closed his mouth.

"What?" Newkirk began, "Klink, Frau Linkmeyer, Christmas presents?"

"Well when one is seeing someone romantically they tend to buy gifts for them, Peter." Versie said laughing at Newkirk's shocked expression.

"What? When? How? What does General Burkhalter have to say about this? Does Hogan know?" Newkirk stammered not able to wrap his head around this idea.

"I have no idea what Hogan knows. Since Wilhelm and Hogan keep in touch, I can assume he knows something. As for General Burkhalter, he was in Berlin when it fell. We have made inquires but the Americans and the British do not have him. Either he died defending the city, died while attempting to flee or the Russians have him."

"I thought Klink hated Frau Linkmeyer." Newkirk said.

She shrugged, "Things change, people change." She smiled and gave him a knowing look.

Newkirk shook his head and gave s soft snort. "Should we add match maker to your resume'?"

"What is the difference between healing a broken leg or a broken heart? They both deserve to be happy. They've earned it and I for one am delighted."

"You know we had a code name for you back at camp." Newkirk teased.

"Why," she laughed. "I never left camp except that one time for a medical emergency."

"Still you had one. We called you Mother Hen because you were so good at gathering us up under your skirt and keeping all your little chicks save, including the guards." Newkirk laughed.

"Considering what a randy bunch the boys in barracks two were, I am not sure I am comfortable having any of you under my skirts." Versie replied with a grin.

Newkirk started to laugh and choked on his coffee. Versie had to pat him on the back several times to clear his airway.

Finishing off their coffee, Peter paid the waiter and stood up to help Versie put on her coat. "So have you finished your shopping?"

"Yes I am heading home to wrap these presents and finish my baking. I'm baking a cake for the party at Gertrude's tomorrow and cookies for the children's ward at the local hospital."

Newkirk held the door open as she stepped outside. Taking her arm in his, he began to walk her back to her apartment.

"Why don't you come with me to the party Peter? I know you'd be more than welcome." Versie said while clinging to his arm against the wind that had just started to kick up again.

"I don't know…" Newkirk said letting his voice trail off.

"Well I do. Pick me up at my apartment on Christmas day at 1500 hours. The party doesn't start until 1700 hours but I want to get there early to help Gertrude. Klink won't be there until later. He is going to Mannheim to pick up Schultz and his family. I will not take no for an answer. Christmas is a time to spend with the people you love and care about."

Newkirk stopped in front of her apartment and looked down at her smiling face. He bent down and gave her a chaste kiss on her cheek and then pulled her into a firm embrace.

"Still the mother hen," Newkirk said while giving her a wide smile.

Versie gave him a small amused smile. "I just like taking care of family Peter. I am extremely fond of you and love you like a brother."

She reached up and touched his face. "You are too isolated from your friends and family. If sulking in dark alleyways is the life you want that's fine but make sure you keep strong those ties that bind you close to those you care about."

Hooking her arm in his, she pulled him to the front door of the apartment building. "Come up and get some my home made cookies to take home with you."

Halfway down the block a figure watched the exchange between the couple and then silently melted into the night.

HHHHHHHH

Leaving Versie's apartment, Newkirk headed east towards the river. He had a room over a store there. Munching on one of Versie's cookies, it took Newkirk several blocks before he noticed he was being followed. Newkirk realized that most of the stores had closed early and the street traffic was almost non existent. It was going to be difficult loosing his tail. While he mentally explored his option, a shot rang out and Newkirk could hear the bullet whiz by his ear. Shoving the cookies into his pocket he took off running.

Running down a back alley, Newkirk was trying to remember where the alley exited. All of a sudden a pair of hands reached out, grabbed him and shoved him into a pile of trash. Before he could react, empty boxes fell on top of him and a hoarse voice told him to lie still and be quiet. Newkirk hearing footsteps running into the alley, decided to do as the strange voice had told him. His heart was in his throat when he heard the footsteps slow and stop right in front of where he was hidden.

"Did you see a man run by?" a heavy Saxon accented voice asked. There was a pause and then some of the boxes shook and Newkirk heard a man yelp. "Hey," said the voice, "I said did you see anyone come by?"

"Wh-hat?" replied a slurred voice which Newkirk recognized as his savior. "Got a mark for a veteran? I need some medicine."

"By the stink you're giving off, your medicine must be ninety proof."

Newkirk heard another yelp and then something fell on top of him. He struggled not to make a sound and he was rewarded by the sound of the man walking leaving all the while he cursed at the "stinking damn drunk."

A few minutes passed with no sound. Newkirk was about to get really nervous when the boxes began to be lifted from him. A hand reached down and pulled him to his feet.

"Thanks mate." Newkirk said, trying to peer through the darkness at his savior. "I owe you one." Newkirk frowned trying to figure out if the man standing before him was friend or foe. A brief flicker of the headlights of a passing car illuminated the man's face. Relaxing, Newkirk broke into a grin.

"Bloody hell Oskar, you had me going there for a moment. I didn't recognize you in that outfit."

The man looked back at Newkirk with a confused look on his face. "My name isn't Oskar, Peter."

Newkirk laughed, "Oh right mate, you're in disguise. What do you want me to call you this time?"

'By my name would be acceptable. By the way, you do know your leg is bleeding." The man said pointing at Newkirk's right leg.

Newkirk had been running on adrenaline so he had not noticed he had fallen on a broken bottle. The front of his pant leg was soaked in blood. Now the pain started to kick in. Newkirk's savior tore a strip from his shirt and tied it around Newkirk's leg, use above the cut. He then got a stick and made a tourniquet.

"Do you have a place to go?" the man asked placing Newkirk's arm over his shoulder and allowing Newkirk's weight to settle on him.

"Yeah, it's not far from here." Newkirk said as they both limped out of the alley. Newkirk reached into his pocket and sighed when he realized all he had was a bag of cookie crumbs.

"Want a cookie?" he said while holding the bag of crushed cookies out to the man.

HHHHHH

Schultz had given Karl Versie's address. Karl had made Schultz promise not to say anything to anyone about seeing him because he had wanted to surprise her. He had been making his way up the street when he saw Peter and Versie together. He stood there and watched the scene play out in front of him. Even though he couldn't hear what was being said, he watched while Peter kissed Versie and then both of them had gone upstairs to her apartment.

Karl had fled from the scene, heartbroken. He had been too late. She had found someone else. Sitting in the alley he tried to figure out what to do. Should he confront them or just leave them be. Everything he had worked and dreamed of was gone. He felt numb. He finally decided that he would go back and talk to Schultz about the situation. Maybe his friend could give him some good advice.

As Karl stood up to exit the alley, he heard a shot rang out. Startled, Karl just stood there frozen for a moment. Just then a figure entered the alley at a dead run. Passing under a light, Karl recognized the man was Newkirk. Hearing the sound of someone chasing Newkirk, Karl reacted without thinking.

Grabbing Newkirk as he passed by, Karl threw him on top of a pile of trash. Telling him to be quiet, Karl dumped a stack of empty boxes on top of Newkirk. Grabbing an almost empty bottle of some kind of foul smelling liquor, Karl dumped the remaining contents on himself and half lying on the boxes, pretended to be passed out.

The man entered the alley and immediately saw Karl. Walking over to him the man yelled for Karl to wake up. Then he kicked him in the ribs to bring home his request. Getting to his feet, Karl pretended to be too drunk to understand what the man wanted and then started to beg for money. Disgusted, the man pushed Karl down onto the boxes and left the alley. Karl waited several minutes to ensure the man was not returning before trying to free Newkirk from his trashy prison.

He was confused as to why Newkirk didn't recognize him. And who was this Oskar fellow? Karl didn't understand the game Newkirk was playing but he wasn't going to play along. Just as Karl was about to give him a piece of his mind, he noticed the horrible gash on Newkirk's leg. Knowing he had caused the injury when he pushed Newkirk into the trash made Karl feel guilty.

Karl hated using part of his shirt to help stop the bleeding. Not because he was fond of the shirt but because he knew how dirty it was. Realizing he did not look his best caused Karl shame. He had always prided himself on his appearance. It wasn't vanity; he just liked knowing everything was in its proper place and in order. Karl realized why Newkirk didn't recognize him and suddenly he was glad. If he kept to the dim light and shadows maybe he could get away with Newkirk never knowing who he was. Karl shuttered with dread at being found out. Karl helped him to the room Newkirk had been renting. Going up the back stairs, they were able to get to the room without anyone noticing them. Karl helped Newkirk to the bed. Elevating the leg, Karl told Newkirk to stay put and he would be right back with some bandages. The pain of the injury had finally hit full force so Newkirk was not up to making any kind of argument. Leaving Newkirk, Karl retracted his steps back to Versie's apartment building. Summing his courage, Karl found her apartment and tentatively knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" came a soft voice from the other side of the door.

"A friend of Peter's. He has been hurt and needs medical attention." Karl said. He felt ill and wanted to throw up.

"Peter is hurt?" came the concern reply.

"Yes and he needs help."

Karl could hear the locks being disengaged. Slowly the door opened and there an angel stood before him.


	14. Secret Agent Man

**Secret Agent Man**

The door slowly opened and Karl was able to catch a glimpse of his angel before dropping his head. He hoped his long hair and beard covered enough of his face so she would not recognize him. He was still confused about what to do about the situation between Versie and Peter. He preferred to resolve the issue in his mind before letting anyone know he was around. She stared at him for a moment before speaking.

"Peter is hurt?" she asked with concern evident in her voice.

"Yes Frau Cumba. He fell and cut a large gash in his leg. It is bleeding profusely." Karl's hoarse voice ground out.

"Why has he not gone to the hospital?" she asked while stepping back into the apartment to get her coat.

"There was a man and he was trying to hurt Peter. He…" Karl began. Versie raised her hand indicating she had heard enough.

"Peter is laying low? In hiding?" she asked as she picked up her bag of medical supplies.

"Yes Gnadigefrau," Karl replied.

Versie took a few steps closer but quickly backed up. Frowning and wrinkling her nose she asked, "Have you been drinking?"

"No Frau Cumba, it is just part of the disguise." Karl took a few steps backward until his back was against the far hallway wall.

"Ok then," she said with her tone indicating she was still not sure about the whole situation. "Take me to Peter."

Karl led her through the city streets while attempting to keep an eye out for any potential danger. He explained to her what had happened with Newkirk to which she responded by giving him a sour look. Karl sighed because he felt she was now blaming him for something Newkirk had gotten himself into. He had just come in at the end of it all.

He didn't understand what kind of mischief Newkirk had gotten himself in but knew it wasn't a game. He fought an internal battle with himself all the way to Newkirk's room. On the one hand, he wanted Newkirk to get proper medical attention. On the other, he didn't like Versie being mixed up with something dangerous. Karl wondered if Newkirk had given any thought at all to her safety. After all, what if the man who shot at Peter decided to start shooting at Versie? No, Karl decided, he didn't like this situation at all.

Letting Versie into the room he saw that Newkirk was still on the bed. Karl felt a sense of relief, which confused him. His dilemma lay in how he could be so angry at Newkirk for his betrayal but still felt the need to help and protect him. Karl retreated to a far corner of the room to brood over his feelings and to stay out of Versie's way while she worked on Newkirk.

"What do we have here?" Versie asked as she moved closer to the injured Newkirk. "Looks like you'd do anything to get out of taking me to Gertrude's Christmas party tomorrow."

Newkirk attempted to give her one of his most charming smiles while she set her bag on the table next to the bed. She looked down at him, put her hands on her hips and gave him a faux frown. "Don't even try it buster. I'm on to your wily ways."

Versie moved down to look at the injured leg. Getting a pair of bandage scissors out of her bag she cut away his pant leg.

"Hey," cried Newkirk. "These are my favorite pants."

"You mean they were your favorite pants." Versie replied dryly.

Finding an ace bandage roll, she told Newkirk to open his mouth and then shoved it into his mouth. Newkirk grunted in surprise.

"I have to clean the wound before I can stitch it and all I have is alcohol." Versie said not looking at him.

Newkirk moaned and threw his arm over his eyes.

"I don't feel sorry for you in the least. Running around back alley's in the middle of the night. What were you thinking? Not only that, your friend tells me that you were shot at too. I have half a notion to call Mavis and have her turn you across her lap when you get home and spank the tar out of you." At this point she poured half the bottle of alcohol on Newkirk's leg.

Newkirk screamed into the bandage and arched his back. His fists where knotted into the bed linens and tears ran down his face.

"Oh it's not over. I still have to stitch this very deep gash and I do not have anything for the pain. On the plus side it appears that you missed the Femoral Artery or you would not be with us now."

When Versie started to thread the surgical needle Newkirk turned his head, unable to watch what was about to occur. Karl had witnessed enough and decided to go and set up watch by the window so he would have an excuse not to watch. He could hear Newkirk's muffled cries. He tried to tune it out but was unable to do so.

A coughing fit ripped through Karl's body. Looking down at the hand that he had used to cover his mouth, he saw traces of blood. He quickly wiped it away on his pants before she could see. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel sorry for him or feel guilty just because he had a little cold. He had been sick in Stuttgart and had gotten over it. He would get over it here too.

When she had finished, Versie gave Newkirk some aspirin for the pain and swelling. "It's not much Peter but it is all I have." Versie said while patting his shoulder. "I don't want you to get up for at least three days. You need to let that leg rest or you can do permanent damage to it. Do you understand?"

"Yes Mother Hen," Newkirk responded which earned him a smack on the top of his head. Newkirk chuckled in response.

"I'll come back tomorrow and check it for infection." she said as she started to put away her medical supplies. "You really should get a tetanus shot as soon as possible."

Karl rushed across the room to open the door for Versie. She paused as she passed him. Feeling uncomfortable with her interest, he kept his head down and hoped she would not recognize him.

Versie turned back to Newkirk and asked, "What is your friend's name Peter?"

"Oh where are my manners? That's Oskar Danzig. He was the leader of the underground when we were back at Stalag Thirteen. He's Germany's best female impersonator. Taught me everything I know about disguises." Peter chirped happily.

"Hmmm," she responded as she glanced at Karl before starting to walk out of the room.

"I will walk with you to make sure you get home safe." Karl said just before another coughing fit hit him.

Versie raised one eyebrow and then exited the room without further comment.

HHHHHH

Versie didn't know what to make of Newkirk's friend. When she first opened the door to her apartment, she thought he looked familiar but each time she tried to get a glimpse of his face he would do something to obscure his features. Maybe Newkirk was right and this was all part of his disguise.

She noticed right away he was hoarse and she worried about his cough. As they neared her apartment, she thought she could detect a slight wheezing in his breathing. Versie did not think this was part of his disguise. She pondered his financial situation. Many people couldn't afford the cost of meeting their most basic needs. Medical care was a luxury many Germans could no long afford. She also noticed when climbing the stairs to her apartment, his coughing and wheezing had gotten worse. She could tell he was starting to struggle to breathe.

Without turning around she asked, "Have you seen someone about your condition?"

"Yes, I was treated by a doctor but it seems to have returned. It is just a cold. It will pass in a couple of days." he answered.

"It sounds like it stopped being a cold at least a week ago." she said as she opened the door to her apartment. "Wait here and let me at least get you some cough syrup. I had a cold earlier this year and I think I still have some left."

"You don't need to go to so much trouble. I am fine." Karl replied.

"If you're sick you will make Peter sick." she said as she started looking through her kitchen cabinets.

She found the syrup and was reading the label to make sure it was ok to give it to him when she heard him respond, "Yes… Peter."

His tone was so odd it caused her to look up. Her back was to him and she was facing the only window in the apartment. There she saw him reflected in the window. His head was not down as it usually was. He was looking straight at her. For a moment she couldn't breathe. She just stood there staring transfixed at the reflection. Setting the syrup down, she spun around to face him. She noted once again his head was down, his hair falling across his face disguising his features once more.

Crossing the room with long quick strides she grabbed him and forced his face up. She fully expected to learn her mind had been playing tricks on her. He could not be who she thought she had seen in the window. She looked at his face. She saw his gaunt features and purple rimmed eyes. Versie knew exactly who she was looking at. She knew every inch of his face, from his soft blue eyes to the birth mark on his cheek. It was her Karl and now she was angry as hell.

Versie reached out and grabbed Karl by the front of his shirt dragged him into the apartment and slammed the door shut. Carefully she enunciated each word with a conscious attempt to filter the much felt profanity before the words crossed her lips. "Karl Anton Langenscheidt what do you think you are doing? Do you how many people have been looking for you? I have been going out of my mind with worry and the whole time you have been playing secret agent with Peter."

Karl looked at the floor and remained mute. Versie reached under his chin and pulled his head up. "Oh no mister, you're not getting off that easy. You will answer and give me the courtesy of looking at me when you do." Placing her hands on her hips she waited in silence for him to explain himself.

"I only found out where you were today." Karl hesitantly began. "Then I saw you and Peter hugging and kissing. I thought you were a couple. I didn't know what to do. I was going back to see Hans and talk to him about it. Before I could do anything I saw Peter was in trouble and tried to help."

"So you deliberately hid who you were from me and planned to walk out of this apartment building tonight with me none the wiser."

Karl nodded.

"So you have no feeling for me what so ever."

"No, I love you." Karl cried.

"How can you love me if you don't trust me? I would have waited forever for you. You should have trusted me when I told you I would. You have really hurt me."

"I'm sorry." he whispered.

"Look at you, sick as a dog and smelling of cheap booze and something I don't even want to think about." Grabbing his shirt she said, "Come with me."

Versie pulled Karl into the bathroom and started running water in the claw footed tub. "Strip!" she said as she began gathering soap, shampoo and other bathing items.

"What?" Karl asked looking more than a little taken aback.

"I said 'strip'. You need a bath and you're going to get one. Now take off your clothes." Versie replied.

"But I will be naked." Karl said.

"That is generally how one bathes. Now get out of those clothes." Versie said with a touch of impatience. "It's not like I haven't seen man parts before. I am a nurse, remember?"

"Yes but you haven't seen my man parts." Karl exclaimed.

Hesitantly Karl removed his clothing. Versie was shocked at his appearance. He looked like a Halloween skeleton that someone had stretched some skin over. She noticed the red half healed wound on his leg and the ugly scar on his arm. Turning off the bath water, she helped him into the tub. Gathering the soap and washcloth, she began to wash his back. She could count the vertebrate in his spine. His ribs and shoulder blades were prominently displayed. His arms were little more than two thin sticks. Washing him was like rubbing her hand over a washboard.

She wanted to stay mad at him but he was making it difficult. He kept peeking up at her with those baby blues, looking so much like a kicked puppy. She found her anger was slowly evaporating and being replaced by relief and concern. He was obviously suffering from malnutrition and she suspected pneumonia. His leg looked as if it was infected. How he was able to get around in his condition was beyond her.

She started to wash his arms and chest. He attempted to stop her telling her he could do it himself. She compromised with him and allowed him to take care of what was underwater while she washed his hair. When finished she had him stand while she helped him from the tub. Helping him dry himself, she gave him her warm fluffy pink bathrobe to put on. He had lost so much weight, it easily fit him.

Leaving the bathroom, Versie got some clean sheets and a blanket from the closet. Taking a pillow off her bed, she made a place for him on the couch.

"Here, lay down. I have to go somewhere but I will be back shortly." she said.

"I need my clothes." Karl protested.

"I'm burning those clothes. Besides if you don't have them you can't disappear. I doubt you want to be seen walking down the street wearing nothing but my bathrobe. Now please lay down."

He did as he was told and she covered him in the thick blanket. Brushing the hair from his eyes she gently kissed his cheek.

"You forgive me?" he whispered.

"I'm getting there." Versie said giving him a hint of a smile.

He smiled happily up at her. Shaking her head in mild amusement she exited the apartment.

Karl tried to stay awake while waiting for her return but the warmth of the room and blanket quickly derailed those plans. Unable to keep his eyes open, Karl slipped into a blissful sleep.

When Versie returned several hours later with various packages, she found Karl asleep. Like a new mother, she had to check on him before she could relax. His breathing was still labored and he noticed his fever had risen. She quietly walked over to her bed and deposited her packages before going to her kitchen and started to cook Karl some breakfast. She turned on the radio and turned the volume down as not to wake Karl.

There in her little kitchen she felt at peace. Listening to the Christmas carols on the radio and being able to cook a Christmas breakfast for Karl made her extremely happy. For the first time this year, it really felt like Christmas to her. She began to hum along with the music. Realizing she was being watched, she turned and saw Karl had woken and was watching her.

"Good you are awake." she said turning off the stove. As she walked by the dining table she snagged a chair with one hand and her medical bag with another. Setting the bag and chair next to the couch, she went to the bed and started rummaging through them.

"I am sorry it took so long for me to get back. I had to call and wake Gertrude to let her know I couldn't make it to the party and why. She and Wilhelm will be here soon. I also had to convince Herr Braun to open his store, at three times the price, so I could pick up some things for you." she said as she selected some items and came to sit next to him.

"You shouldn't have gone to so much trouble." Karl replied.

"The correct answer Herr Langenscheidt is 'thank you my dear'." Versie said as she took a thermometer out of her bag and placed it in his mouth.

"Thank you my dear." Karl was able to mumble around the thermometer.

"Better," she said as she took his pulse. Looking at the thermometer she saw his temperature was 103 degrees. Frowning she placed it back into its alcohol filled container. "I am going to try and nurse you today and hopefully I can get a doctor to see you tomorrow and give you some antibiotics. You're going to keep getting sick until we do something about that leg. It looks infected and it will keep taxing your immunity. That's why you keep getting sick."

Karl smiled at her and reached up to pull her down into a kiss.

"Oh yes," she remarked, "I got you some toothpaste and a brush." She smiled and leaned down for a second kiss.

Pulling away she said, "You need to get up. I need to shave you and cut the lion's mane. Come sit in the chair.

Versie helped him to the chair and he sat quietly as she gave him a hair cut and a shave. She then helped him into an undershirt and boxers. Then she put him back on the couch and tucked the blanket securely around him. Going back into the kitchen she half filled a bowl with oatmeal toped with a little cream and sugar. Bring it back to him she said, "Eat this and if you can keep it down, I will give you some more in an hour. If I give you too much to eat at one sitting, your stomach will rebel. Try not to eat it too fast."

Accepting the bowl, Karl tried to eat it as slow as he could. He watched her cleaning up after him and humming softly to herself. He fell in love with her all over again. Feeling sleepy again, Karl thought to close his eyes just for a moment.

HHHHHH

Klink did not know how to react when he had gotten the call from Gertrude. Karl was alive and at Versie's. He quickly jumped out of bed, gathered up some things. As the sun started to break over the horizon, Klink drove to Gertrude's. He found her waiting in front of her apartment building. Her arms full of Christmas presents. Klink got out and opened the trunk for her. As she was about to put the packages inside the trunk, she spied a suitcase. "Going on a trip Wilhelm?"

Klink laughed, "No my dear, its just some old clothes of mine. I thought Karl may not have much and if he has lost as much weight as Versie said, he might be able to fit in them."

"You are a sweet thoughtful man Wilhelm." Getrude beamed.

"Thank you my dear." Klink returned happily. "Now get into the car where it is warm." After they were both settled in the car, Klink drove straight to Versie's apartment.

With barely controlled excitement Klink knocked on the apartment door. After verifying who it was, Versie opened the door and let them in. Placing a finger over her lips she bid them to come in. Klink entered the apartment and saw Karl asleep on the couch. If Versie had not told him it was Karl, he would have never recognized him. His distress must have been mirrored on his face because Gertrude had begun to pat his arm and give him reassurances that Karl would be ok.

Versie led them to the dinning room table and after taking their coats, asked them to sit. Putting at pot of coffee on, she also started to reheat the oatmeal.

"Are you sure he will be alright?" Klink asked Versie while looking at Karl with concern.

"He is sick and in need of a doctor but with good food and proper medical care I think he will be ok. I'm trying no to think about what he must have gone through to get in that condition in the first place." she said as she stirred the oatmeal. Placing coffee and oatmeal in front of her guests she went and checked Karl. Satisfied his temperature had not risen, she returned to her guests. "He will be so happy to see you Wilhelm. Have you called Hogan and told him?"

"No, I won't be able to reach him until after the holidays. Don't worry. I'll make sure he knows Karl is here. It will be a great load off of his mind." Klink said sipping his coffee. "We've brought some stuff with us since you can not come to the party today. It is in the trunk of the car. I will go down in a little bit and get it." Looking over at Karl, Klink continued, "Schultz will be so happy to learn that Karl is here."

"That big rat knows." Versie said. "Karl had Hans promise not to tell anyone."

Looking up at Versie Klink replied, "I am so glad I am not Schultz."


	15. Danzig

**Danzig**

Karl woke to see Klink sitting next to him, smiling down at him. Karl's face broke into a huge grin and the two men hugged each other like long lost brothers.

Versie walked over to Karl and rearranged the pillows so he would be sitting up. Klink and Versie then moved the dinning room table over to the couch and placed the chairs at the table. Klink and Frau Linkmeyer took the chairs while Versie sat at the foot of the couch. This way they were able to make sure Karl would be apart of the conversation and not isolated on the couch.

Excusing himself, Klink went down stairs and got the things that had been left in the trunk of the car. He returned shortly with his arms full of presents and the suitcase. Versie went into her closet and pulled out her gifts. Setting everything on the table, they began to enjoy Christmas together.

Frau Linkmeyer opened the gift from Versie and tried on the new hat and gloves. Klink pronounced her a ravishing beauty, which earned him a heartfelt kiss. Frau Linkmeyer presented Versie with a cameo pin that had belonged to her mother. Versie, overwhelmed, attempted to give it back to her but Frau Linkmeyer insisted saying she thought of Verise as her second daughter. Versie presented Klink with a silk scarf and a fur hat to help keep him warm in the winter months. She then joked that he appeared to be keeping very warm without them. Frau Linkmeyer blushed and Klink laughed as he pulled his lady closer to him.

Versie had purchased some gifts for Karl in the hopes he would be found before Christmas. From her he received several pairs of warm socks and a winter coat. Karl bemoaned the fact that he had no gift for anyone and was assured that his presence was gift enough for everyone.

With a twinkle in her eye, Versie placed the largest gift in front of Klink. "This is from Gertrude." she said.

Taken aback at the size of the gift Klink said, "I cannot image what this could be." After a chorus of 'open it' Klink tore into the paper. Opening the box he gasped and ever so gently pulled out his old violin and case.

"I saw it in a pawn shop in Hamburg. I knew I had to get it for you Wilhelm." Frau Linkmeyer said placing her hand on his arm. "Do you like it?"

Klink was so overcome with emotion it took him a minute or two to form the words. "I love it my dear. The cost…" he began.

Gently placing her fingers to his lips she said, "You are worth it."

Taking her hand he kissed it and then leaned over a kissed her.

"Well Wilhelm will you give her your present now or wait for later?" Versie prodded.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small box and placed it into Frau Linkmeyer's hand. Klink instructed her to open it. As she did as he requested, Klink stood up and then got down on one knee.

"I remember talking to Robert one night about how happy I was being a bachelor, how I never wished to marry. I find that I must eat those words now. I love you Gertrude and I cannot see my future without you by my side. I know you can do much better but I am asking you to be my wife." Klink took her free hand and kissed it. He looked up into her eyes and waited for her to answer.

Frau Linkmeyer looked down at the opened box with a ring inside and then back at Klink. "Oh Wilhelm, I would love to be your wife." Frau Linkmeyer beamed at Klink.

Both Versie and Karl looked happily on as Klink gathered Frau Linkmeyer into his arms and kissed her. Removing the box from her hand, he placed the ring on her finger. Versie got up and hugged both of them.

"I could not be any happier than I am today." Versie said. "Today has been the most perfect day I have ever had."

Looking at the clock, Versie reminded Klink and Frau Linkmeyer that they needed to go. Frau Linkmeyer needed to get ready for the party and Klink needed to pick up Schultz and his family. Klink helped Versie move the table back to its original position and then kissed her cheek goodbye. Versie gave him a warm hug that bespoke of her deep affection for him. After Versie gave Frau Linkmeyer a final embrace, the happily engaged couple left.

HHHHH

Newkirk had started to get worried about Versie's welfare. Oskar had not come back yet and he worried. He decided if he hadn't heard anything in the next hour, leg or no leg, he would go out looking for her. A knock at the door broke his train of thought. As Newkirk asked who was knocking on his door, his hand slid under the pillow and rested firmly on the gun hidden there.

"Who is it?" Newkirk asked nervously.

"Danzig," was the reply.

Relieved he removed his hand from the gun and bid Danzig to enter.

As Danzig came into the room, Peter noticed he looked entirely different than he had last night.

"What happened to you Peter?" Danzig asked once he was inside the room and saw Newkirk was injured.

"What do you mean Oskar, you were with me when it happened." replied Newkirk.

"Peter, I haven't seen you since we left Mannheim. In fact I came to apologize. I know I was supposed to meet you last night but I got word my brother might be in Stuttgart. Unfortunately it was a dead end." Looking at Newkirk's bandaged leg, Danzig continued. "I don't know what you got yourself into but I am glad you were able to get yourself out of it."

"Wait, let me get this straight." Newkirk said with a bit of alarm in his voice. "You scarpered on me last night to look for your brother? I didn't even know you had a brother. And if that wasn't you last night who the ruddy hell was it?"

"I can't imagine what you are talking about Peter." replied Danzig.

"Have a seat mate; I think this is going to be a long conversation." Newkirk replied while gesturing to a nearby chair. "Why don't you start off?"

"Alright Peter," Danzig said as he sat in the chair. "I came from family that prized a good education. My father was a teacher, as was his father. We didn't have a lot of money but my parents ensured that I received a first class education. During my freshman year I was attending the University in Berlin. There was a student book burning that spring targeting such authors as Helen Keller, Sigmund Freud, Albert Einstein and Ernest Hemingway (1). This went against everything my father had taught me and I began to see the evil that was the _Nationalsozialismus_ party. I left school and returned home. My father and I disagreed on what I should do. He thought it was best to bury my head in the sand and go back to school. Papa thought if I were to just continue my studies without taking sides everything would be alright. I saw that there would come a point that I would not be able to do that. I knew if I waited to oppose Hitler and his cronies I would place my family in danger. So I left home and began a new life. With the skills I obtained working against the Nazis and the need to support myself, yet remain hidden, I entered the theater."

"Amazing," said Newkirk. "What happened to your family? Did they know where you were and what you were doing?"

"No," replied Danzig, "I only saw my family twice since then, once at my father's funeral and the again at my mother's. Both times I had to be in disguise. They never knew I was there."

"What happened to your brother?" Newkirk asked intrigued by the story his friend was telling.

"My brother was still in Gymnasium when I left home. Later I heard he had gone to University and became a teacher like our father. Soon he was drafted and ended up as a guard at Stalag Thirteen. I never told anyone my younger brother was a guard at the prison camp. I thought I was keeping him safe just in case someone got caught and was questioned by the Gestapo. You can't tell what you didn't know about. That's why I was working the area, so I could keep an eye on him. Often I would see him in town or catch a glimpse of him when I came to see Colonel Hogan. I never dared to approach him. It was too dangerous."

"Wait a minute," Newkirk interrupted, "I don't remember anyone there named Danzig."

Danzig gave a short laugh, "You above anyone else should know Danzig is just my stage name.

Newkirk felt a prickling at the back of his neck and he had a nagging feeling he knew what was coming next. "And your legal name would be?"

"Langenscheidt, Oskar Helmuth Langenscheidt II." Danzig said as if he were making some sort of pronouncement.

"Karl Langenscheidt is your brother? Why after the war didn't you say anything?" Newkirk asked.

"Because all of you were going in separate directions and had more important things to deal with than finding my brother." replied Danzig.

"You stupid berk! People have been going crazy trying to find your brother. The guv'nor has been calling in every favor owed to him searching for your brother."

"Why would my brother be so important to the Colonel?" Danzig asked.

"Your brother was important because he knew about us and still kept quiet. The last part of the war when things were so dangerous he was a courier, getting information and supplies to us. Then there is Ilsa and Versie." Newkirk replied as he swung his legs around so they hung off the side of the bed.

"Who?" Danzig inquired.

"Ilsa is your little sister who we smuggled out of Germany. She is living in America with Versie's family." Newkirk saw Danzig looking at him quizzically so he quickly added; "Versie is your brother's sweetheart and the lady who fixed my leg. And that brings us to just who was here last night." said Newkirk.

"My brother and I look similar; people often thought we were twins. Could it have been him?" Danzig asked.

"I don't know but he left with the Little Sister and neither has come back." Newkirk started to get out of bed. "Hand me a clean pair of slacks, will you mate. I think we both need to take a trip to Versie's and fast."

HHHHH

"Do you think if I made some stew you would be able to eat it?" Versie said looking up from the open refrigerator door.

"Yes, I think so." Karl said as another coughing fit kicked in.

Picking up a spoon and the cough syrup Versie came over to where Karl was reclining on the couch and touched his forehead. Frowning she poured some cough syrup onto the spoon and gave him the medicine.

"What was that frown about?" Karl asked.

"I was hoping the aspirin would have brought your fever down some by now. Maybe I should just make a broth." she said with some concern.

Karl looked at her with puppy dog eyes and Versie melted. "Ok no broth but if you can't keep it down, you're going to be on a broth diet until I say otherwise."

She turned towards the kitchen but was interrupted by a knock on the door. Inquiring who it was, Newkirk's voice answered on the other side of the door. "It's me love, open the door."

Versie cracked the door and looked out and saw Newkirk and the shoulder of another man. "What is so important Peter that you had to go against my instructions and get out of bed?"

"I found out the man you took home yesterday wasn't my friend Oskar. I was worried." Newkirk said.

"He must be a close friend for you to mistake another man for him." Versie opened the door a little more and looked at Danzig. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him.

"Could you let us inside? My leg is killing me." Newkirk asked.

Looking back at Newkirk Versie replied, "I have questions." She opened the door and allowed the two men into the apartment.

"The man who took you home last night where is he?" Newkirk asked as he limped into the room. Versie merely motioned to the couch. Danzig turned and looked at the couch. Pushing past Newkirk, Danzig hurried to the couch. "Karl!" he exclaimed as he knelt by the couch.

Karl blinked several times before answering "Oskar? Oskar is that you?" Both men broke out into grins simultaneously and hugged each other. "Where have you been? Do you know about mama and papa?"

"Yes, I was there in disguise but couldn't approach anyone. My work with the underground would have made it too dangerous for you." Danzig replied. "What is this about me having a little sister?"

As the two men started catching each other up on what had been going on with the other, Versie led Newkirk to the bed. She helped him with his shoes and then set his feet on the bed. "Really Versie, I am fine." Newkirk protested.

"I'll be the judge of that." she retorted. Versie returned to the kitchen and started to make the stew she had planned. As she worked she listened to the reunion going on across the room but made no attempt to join Karl. She had just put her homemade biscuits in the oven when Karl finally remembered her.

"Oh my goodness, I forgot about Versie." Karl said to his brother. "Versie please come and meet my brother." Karl held his hand out to his lady.

Versie wiped the flour off her hands with a dish towel and crossed the room to where Karl was. Danzig stood up and faced her. Holding out his hand he grasped her hand and pulled her into a bear hug. "Karl tells me you helped hide our sister and then helped get her to safety. I don't know how to thank you."

"No need to thank me." She said stepping back from his embrace. "I love her like she was my own sister. Besides it was a group effort. A lot of people were involved and took great risks helping her. Peter is one of them."

"Versie and I are going to get married as soon as I get better." Karl said looking up at Versie. A look passed between Danzig and Versie. She shook her head and said, "He doesn't know."

"Doesn't know what?" asked Karl.

"Americans are forbidden to marry Germans. I am sure it is temporary but even if you were well, we could not marry right now."

Karl frowned and Danzig quickly attempted to change the subject. "What is wrong with my brother? Forgive me but he looks terrible."

Besides the malnutrition and what I suspect is pneumonia, Karl has a leg injury which has not been tended and needs medical attention." she replied.

"You can't help him?" asked Danzig.

"No, he needs a surgeon. He has shrapnel in his leg which is the source of his sickness. It needs to be surgically removed before more damage is done to the leg or the infection causes him to become septic. Hopefully we can get him seen tomorrow. Today I just need to keep a close eye on him.' Ruffling the hair on his head Versie said, "I have to get back to my cooking. Oskar you will be staying for supper with us?"

"I do not mean to impose on your hospitality." Danzig replied.

"I shall rephrase, Oskar you will be staying for supper." replied Versie as she returned to the kitchen to check on her stew and biscuits."

Danzig opened his mouth to reply and a voice from the bed interjected, "Don't try and fight it. It's like trying to fight a badger. You'll end up scratched and bit with nothing to show for it."

"Well in that case I guess I will." he replied. Versie gave him a small smile as she started to set the table. There was a small knock at the door and the four occupants of the room looked at each other. Danzig withdrew a pistol from his jacket, which earned him a frown from Versie.

"Who is it?" Versie asked.

"It is Gertrude," was the reply. "I forgot something."

Versie shrugged at Oskar and motioned for him to put the gun away. Opening the door Versie saw Gertrude, Gretchen and Georg Hans standing in the hallway with pots of food in their hands.

"Surprise," said Gertrude. "We decided since you and Karl could not come to the party, we would bring it to you."

Stepping back from the door, Versie let them in. The ladies noted the gentlemen in the room. Finally Gretchen broke the silence. Looking at Newkirk she said, "I know you. You came to visit my husband."

"That's right ma'am." Newkirk said with a nod and a smile.

"Newkirk is your name. I remember you from Stalag Thirteen. You are one of Hogan's men, yes?" Gertrude supplied.

"Yes ma'am that would be correct." Newkirk said while shooting Danzig a humorous look.

Everyone set down the food they were carrying and then looked over at Karl and Danzig. Gertrude spoke first. "What is this? There are two of them."

Breaking into a laugh Versie said, "Ladies I'd like to introduce you to Karl's brother, Oskar."

_1 This organized student event occurred on May 10, 1933 a few months after Hitler came to power. _


	16. Captive

**Captive**

It was several hours before the Christmas party died down. Gradually everyone left leaving Versie alone with Karl. He faded off to sleep, exhausted by the events of the evening. She removed her shoes and lay across the bed. Though it had been over twenty-four hours since she last slept, she felt she had to stay awake to keep an eye on Karl's fever. Slowly her eyes became heavier and heavier until she was no longer able to fit it. Soon she found herself drifting into the twilight that lay between wakefulness and sleep. There she dreamed. At first it was a quiet happy dream. Then it morphed to a nightmare where she could hear Karl crying out for her but she could not find him. Running down dark pathways she desperately searched for him. She could hear his cries which echoed a pain and hurt that tore at her soul. Still she was unable to find him. Shadows lengthened and the darkness became oppressive but she would not stop searching for him.

Awaking suddenly, it took her a moment to realize she had been dreaming. It took her another moment to realize the cries she heard in her dream were actually coming from Karl. Quickly rushing to his side she felt his forehead. Getting her medical bag, returned to the couch and perched on the edge of the cushion. She looked down at Karl and saw his face was contorted into what she thought were pain and fear. He was thrashing about as if he were fighting some unseen assailant. Versie also noticed he had stopped calling her name and now was softly moaning another name. Leaning close, she placed her ear near his mouth. Listening carefully, she thought she could make out the name Ralf. Gently she shook him awake. Upon awaking, he lashed out at her. Soft words and her touch calmed Karl.

After making sure he was fully awake, Versie took his temperature. She was relieved to find Karl's temperature had not risen but actually had fallen a degree. Getting up, she got a cold wash cloth and returned, placing it on his forehead. Softly she caressed his face and watched the tension leave his body.

"Bad dream?" she asked as she took his hand.

"Bad memories," Karl replied in a hoarse whisper. His free hand reached up and touched her face. "But I don't want to burden you with them."

Taking his free hand into hers, she kissed both of them and then held them in her lap. "You can share anything with me Karl. You where there to listen to my nightmares and bad memories, remember? It made me feel better to tell them to you."

"I remember," Karl said, "but I don't know where to start. It was bad for so long."

"Why don't you start with who Ralf is." she said encouragingly.

Karl began to tell her about how he met Ralf, about Johannes and his experiences in the cage. He told her of France, the fate of his friends and his escape. She laid her head on his chest and listened without comment. He talked until his voice gave out and then he cried for his friends until there were no more tears. She murmured words of love and devotion to him until he finally drifted off to sleep. There in the dark she held him close to her and silently vowed she would never to be parted from him again.

In the morning Versie got up stiff from the position she had been in all night and began to make some breakfast for Karl. She mentally went down a list of things she had to do today. Aside from the doctor for Karl, she needed to call Hogan. Not only to make sure he knew where Karl was but also to find out what were the repercussions of his escape. Every German veteran of the war had to have discharge papers in order to work or get a ration card. She chewed her lip in worry that it might extend to medical care too. She knew he had false identity papers they could use if push came to shove but she did not want him to have to live a lie for the rest of his life. After plating the food, she went over and woke Karl. They both ate breakfast together. Then she helped him with his early morning routine and then put him back on the couch.

"I need to go and take a bath and get dressed. Then I need to get a doctor to come and see you." Versie said as she tucked the blanket under Karl. Taking her hand he pulled her down until she laid half across his chest. With his hand he slowly stroked the outside of her right breast.

"Thank you for last night." Karl said as he kissed her.

"Anytime," she replied brushing the hair from his eyes.

"You do realize if I hadn't been so sick, dirty and a generally miserable human being, that bath you gave me might have gone an entirely different way." Karl said teasingly.

"I'm sure." she said as she gave him a kiss.

'Just thought I'd get that straight because next time…." he said letting the sentence trail off as he reached into her hair and pulled her down for a hard kiss. "Because next time, I'm not going to be bathing alone." he said as he released her.

"I need to get you well first and then I'll find out if you're all talk or not." Versie said before giving him a final kiss and disappearing into the bathroom.

She reappeared later refreshed and ready to do her errands. Putting on her coat she walked over to Karl, bent down and kissed his forehead. "I will be back shortly. Do you need anything before I leave? Maybe I can get a book or magazine?"

"How long will you be gone?" he inquired.

"Not long I promise. I'll be back in time to fix you some lunch. Is there anything special you'd like for lunch?" she said picking up her handbag and opening the door.

"No, I am fine. Hurry back."

"I will." she said as she left the apartment.

HHHHHH

Karl settled back and waited for her to return. Minutes passed into hours. When Karl noticed the kitchen clock said it was 1421 hours, he started to become very concerned. This wasn't like her. She was always very punctual and was not the type of woman to become sidetracked. He lay there a few minutes trying to determine what to do. Finally he decided to try and find Newkirk. He would know where to look for Versie.

Oskar Danzig had just reached the apartment door and was about to knock when the door suddenly opened and he was face to face with his brother.

"What is this?" asked Danzig. "Where are you going? You're supposed to be sick."

"Versie's gone." Karl said trying to push his way past his brother. Danzig placed a hand on Karl's chest and applied just enough pressure there to force Karl to take a step back.

"Gone where, shopping? Maybe to work? Where would she be?" Danzig asked while gently pushing Karl back into the apartment.

"She left to do some errands but hasn't returned. She said she'd be back for lunch." Karl said with anxiety.

"She probably got caught up in some girl talk somewhere. Nothing ladies like more than a good hen party. Maybe she found a good sale. You know how short these American's attention can be. If you're hungry I can fix you something." Danzig said as he started to paw through the kitchen cabinets for something to eat.

"This is serious. You don't know her. Something has happened to her and I am going to find out what." Karl said as he once again attempted to leave the apartment. Danzig grabbed his arm but Karl shrugged it off and opened the door to leave.

"Wait Karl, you are in no condition to be out in the cold. Your lady will have my head if I let you get any sicker. Besides, you can hardly walk. Come back and tell me all about our sister Ilsa. That's why I came to see you. I am sure your lady friend will return shortly." Danzig said trying to placate his brother.

"Stop it Oskar! I am not the child you left behind. When you went away, I had to take care of mama and papa. All through Gymnasium, University, teaching, the war and prison, I managed without you. When our parents died it fell to me to make sure Ilsa was safe. I did it all without any help from you. You chose to leave on your idealistic crusade, leaving us behind to worry and make do. Well I did alright without you. As you can see I am neither a child anymore, nor am I of feeble mind. I am telling you something has happened to Versie and either you can help me or you can get out of my way. Either way I am going to find her." Karl raged at Danzig.

"Calm down little brother. I'll help you but we can't just start roaming the streets looking for her. We need some kind of a plan." Danzig said as he steered Karl to a nearby chair. After he had Karl seated, Danzig continued, "Where did she say she was going?"

"She didn't say. I know she wanted to get a doctor for me but I don't know if she had any other plans. I've seen her caring for the sick. There is no way she would have left me alone for this long. She worries about her patients too much. What could have happened Oskar?"

"I don't know Karl but we'll find her don't worry." Oskar said. He was about to continue but was interrupted by a soft rustle by the door. Looking over he saw an envelope had been slid under the door. Walking over to it, Danzig bent down and picked it up. He then opened the door and looked out into the hallway. Not seeing anyone he shut and locked the door.

"What is it Oskar?" asked Karl who had become slightly alarmed at his brother's behavior.

Danzig opened the letter and groaned. Growing more alarmed, Karl got up and crossed the room to where his brother was. "What is this?" he asked.

"She has been kidnapped and they want to exchange her for Newkirk." Danzig said.

"What will we do?"

Shaking his head, Danzig replied, "I don't know little brother. I just don't know."


End file.
